Confessions of my Past
by AmazingLadar
Summary: The SBPD receive a blast from the past! Killers return, friends return and truths from Shawn's past are brought to everyone's attention. Intended Shules. Set before season 6 finale (simply because of that last scene...). Told in first person (but never in Shawn's POV)
1. The Hour Killer

**Hello one and all! Second Psych FanFic here and it's going to be quite different from the last one. For one thing, this will be told in first person. Pay attention to the first couple words of each chapter as that is who's point of view it is told in.**

**(This starting chapter is a bit short. Sorry. They will be longer as the story progresses).**

**Please review! Good or bad, I want to know!**

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Henry Spencer Point Of View

1996

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Two nineteen year olds and a twenty one year old men. What did they have in common? They worked at the LA Bank. What happened at the bank? A man – I'm not sure who or what he looked like, hell, he could even be a she! – robbed them. No, that's a half lie. He didn't just rob them. He burst through their doors, pointed his gun at everyone who stood in his way. He chased every customer out of the bank, leaving behind the only three employees that were on that floor at that time.

It's crazy, really. How can a single man cause so much damage? He was a genius. He knew where to be, what demands to make and how to get away. Yes, that's right. He got away. Believe me, not without causing enough damage to scar three young men for the rest of their lives.

This man walks into a bank and within minutes, it was only him and three employees. Each man went through a lot of abuse. Trauma to the head, shot wounds, stab wounds. All types of wounds. In particular, one of the two nineteen year old boys. He had the worst injuries. When he was finally taken into the hospital, it was a worry whether or not he would survive. When they found him in the bank he was unconscious, lying in a pool of his own blood, his pulse barely noticeable. The other two employees would yell and protest whenever a paramedic would start to help them. They didn't need the help. Not as much.

All three men survived. Though it wasn't something the LAPD wanted to do, they interrogated each employee and asked for a statement. So soon after an experience as traumatic as this… they should have at least a couple days to recover. But they weren't even given that.

They say that the man had pointed his gun at them and told them to fill up his bag with all the money they could find. Two people were responsible for that. The other one – the most injured one – was in charge of negotiation. And when I say in charge of… I mean he was the victim. The man would not negotiate with the cops without this boy by his side. And that's how… his condition got so… out of hand.

The other two employees reported that the man took the final blow to the boy's gut when the police entered the bank. The 19 year old collapsed to the ground causing a distraction to, well, everyone. He then escaped through the window. They were on the second floor and did not have the full perimeter surrounded. The man got away. This whole thing – bank robbery, attempted murder, assault – was all done within an hour.

They gave a description of the man and a sketch was made. But that was it. That was the most they could get.

The identity of those three employees have been, for privacy reasons, kept confidential. The only people who know even as much as the hair colour of these boys were the LAPD. The crime occurred in LA. And it would stay there. No one, not even Santa Barbara, would get even a peak at this case.

I called my son that night. But there was no reply. The last I had heard, Shawn was safe and sound – well, as safe and as sound as he ever could be – in Las Vegas, working in a casino. No doubt, he's picking up girls, flirting with everything that moves. All I can hope is that for once in his life, he _stayed_ there.

I leaned back in my chair and stared at the wall. A new photo was being put up. This photo – this sketch – sent shudders down everyone's spine. It certainly sent one down mine. All I could do was stare up at that sketch. Glare at it. Accuse it. Judge it. I stared at that damned sketch.

The sketch of The Hour Killer.

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**STRAIGHT down to business. Tell me what you think! (Note, it won't all take place in 1996. It's just for this chapter).**

**Review!**


	2. Nathan Hayworth

**Thanks for reviews. Keep them coming! Don't always expect these quick updates. I usually take ages. **

**Unfortunately (or maybe not) this is mostly a Shules chapter. I like the action and adventure parts but… I feel this is kinda needed.**

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Present Day

Juliet O'Hara POV

* * *

Shawn and I were watching a movie. Of course, what else would we do? A day off. At long last, a day off! I love my job, don't get me wrong, but… there have been murders. Lots of them. And we finally caught the guy. After all these stressful weeks we finally caught that… scum bag!

The killings started in Las Angeles. Five men were killed there. Each of them were blonde, brown eyes and 37 years old. Finally, a sixth man died right here in Santa Barbara. His name was Carl Jackson. He followed the description perfectly. Blonde hair, brown eyes, 37 years old. Shawn took it the hardest, claiming that we should have been prepared for a death like this. But, what were we supposed to do? Get all the blonde haired, brown eyed 37 year old men in the country, put them in a room and watch them? Please.

Shawn finally stopped blaming himself when we caught the guy.

Shawn's… spirits… lead him to the evidence and soon enough we had enough to put Adam Clovers in jail. He will be spending a long, _long_ time in jail. That is, assuming his case plays out how expected in court. Which seems to be true. Considering all the evidence that Shawn was lead to.

Now, all Shawn and I wanted to do was sit back, relax and watch a movie. And we did. I curled up into Shawn, pressing my head against his chest. He put his arm around me and held me close. To be honest, I would never want this moment to end. So peaceful, so calm, so natural. Not a single worry on our minds.

Shawn pressed his lips on my forehead and kissed me. I caught up to his mood quickly and turned to face him. He kissed me on my lips and very quickly I found him on top of me, hands moving fast to take off my top.

RING RING

That damned phone. It's going to be the end of me.

I broke away from Shawn's kiss and reached for my phone. Shawn grabbed my hand and pressed it to his lips.

"Please don't answer it" He whispered.

"Shawn" I began, freeing my hand. I reached towards my phone again. "It could be important." I picked up my phone and looked at the caller ID. Shawn was already starting to kiss my neck. "Definitely important" I muttered. Carlton knew I had a well-deserved day off today. "Carlton." I answered the phone.

"O'Hara, come down to the station" Carlton said on the other end. I rolled my eyes.

"It's my day off, Carlton. Can't you handle this without me?"

"I've tried, believe me- hey, hey HEY! PUT THOSE DOWN! WHERE THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!" Carlton yelled so loudly I had to put the phone half a foot away from my ear to prevent hearing loss. "I swear, this guy's worst that Spencer."

"I thought you said that was impossible."

"I thought so too. Clearly I was wrong." A moment of silence. "Please, O'Hara. I'm begging you. Just… come down here, deal with this idiot and then you can go back to whatever meaningless thing you had planned for your day off." Oh, Carlton. You just never want me to rest, do you?

"Fine, fine. Just this once!" I ended the call and I can just picture Carlton's grin as he finally got his way.

"Please tell me you didn't just cancel all our plans for today" Shawn said, pushing himself off me.

"And what plans were that?" I asked, curious.

"You know… little sex here, movie there, lunch, dinner… the usual."

"Just this once" I assured him.

"That's what you said last time."

"Think of it this way, the sooner we get there, the sooner we get back and finish from where we left off…" Shawn perked up at this thought. He smiled and nodded.

"I still don't understand why you have to do this for him…"

"Well, I help him now and then later, when he dumps his paper work on me, I just remind him of all the times I've helped him out in the past. Then he takes back his paperwork and leaves me alone." Shawn looked at me in shock and pride. Which is quite disturbing.

"I'm so proud" Shawn said, wiping away a fake tear. "I have taught you well in the arts of manipulation."

* * *

"Okay, Carlton. We're here. What do you want?" I asked as soon as I entered the station. The whole ride over here, Shawn was whispering in my ear, kissing my neck. Every time I tried to remind him how dangerous it was to distract the driver, he'd just laugh. Now all I want to do is race back home and spend the rest of my day with Shawn. And only Shawn.

"We?" Carlton repeated in horror.

"Lassie face!" Shawn exclaimed. Carlton groaned.

"You couldn't have just left him?"

"You interrupted my plans with Shawn" I said. "I wanted to spend the day with him, and that's going to happen. One way or another. Now where's this guy that you want me to get rid of."

"I hear I've got competition!" Shawn said with a smile. "But Lassie-kins, honestly… who could be worst than me-"

"Mr Hayworth, I've had _enough_ of you are your farfetched theories!" Chief Vick exclaimed, cutting Shawn off. We all stared in shock. Well, more like I did. Carlton just groaned and turned away from the scene. Shawn was interested, but that's all he ever was. I personally had only ever seen the chief react this way to Shawn, and even then it was only when he really to be put back into his place. Which, unfortunately, did happen on more than one occasion.

"They are not farfetched!" enter Mr Hayworth. He was a decent guy. In fact, decent is… an understatement. He was… well… he was gorgeous. Black hair, brown eyes… simply beautiful. Shawn elbowed me, shaking me out of my daze. He gave me a look. A look I've never seen before.

Shawn… was jealous. Oh my, I've never actually seen him so jealous.

"The man who committed these killings is in jail. He is going to be in jail for a very long time" Chief Vick said, struggling to keep her voice under control.

"You got the wrong man. This was not just some psycho. Well, he is a psycho. But you got the wrong guy!" Hayworth yelled. Carlton looked at me. This was the guy I had to ask to leave? That's going to take a while. So much for my plans with Shawn. I walked over to the chief and Hayworth.

"May I remind you that there is a lot of evidence pinned up against Adam Clovers" I said, stepping into the conversation.

"Yeah, yeah. The one the _psychic_ found! I mean, come on! A psychic?! You're kidding, right?" Hayworth exclaimed. At this point, Shawn finally found his way into the conversation.

"Hey!" Shawn yelled. "My methods may be a bit odd, a bit out there, a bit crazy, but they work, okay? I've solved more cases than you can even _begin_ to understand. And-" Shawn suddenly stopped talking as his eyes opened wide. He stared at Hayworth in shock.

"Oh my God…" Hayworth said. Chief and I exchanged confused looks.

"Nathan Hayworth?!" Shawn exclaimed with a huge grin on his face.

"Shawn Spencer!" Hayworth exclaimed in response. They moved into a huge hug. Carlton finally joined us again, shaking his head.

"I knew it" Carlton said. "I knew there was something I hated about that guy…"


	3. The Real Killer

**Seriously, don't expect all these quick updates. I'm only updating so quickly because I have a super easy week at school today. Plus, I'm anticipating my super busy weekend.**

**Still not very long. It will become longer. **

**Reviews are, as always, very much appreciated. I had wonderful and quick feedback on my last chapter and would love a very similar response to this one!**

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Present Day

Carlton Lassiter POV

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I walked into the station. The sweet, beautiful place where all the justice happens. I walked on my desk only to find an unusually high stack of paperwork on it. I looked around. Where in the world is O'Hara? She was supposed to have all this finished and handed it by now. She always does. If she's starting to slack, I swear-

Oh that's right. She took the day off. Apparently she can't handle a bit too much work. It's that Spencer, I tell you. Teaching O'Hara how to… relax…

"Carlton!"

"Yes, Chief?" I answered immediately

"I would like to know why you have a _mountain_ of paperwork to do" her eyes pierced into me like daggers. As they often did whenever she didn't approve.

"Well, O'Hara-"

"It's on your desk, detective. Not Juliet's. I expect these all to be finished and on my desk by the end of the day. Am I clear?" Uncalled for. Unreasonable.

"But, I need to get out there. I can't be stuck here doing paperwork-"

"Am I clear?!" Chief shrieked, clearly not having it today.

"Yes, chief!" I quickly sped right back to my chair. Don't ever get on the chief's bad side. Never. Never ever. Not even when she's in a good mood.

I sat down and stared at the stack of papers. I took the top on off and put it down in front of me. I haven't done paperwork in _years_. It's always been O'Hara.

"This is gonna be hell…"

* * *

One hour and half. I've been sitting at this stupid desk for one hour and a half. My ass is sore, my hands are aching and this paperwork from hell just won't leave me alone. Every time I stand up to walk and take a break the chief would shoot me a glare. Then it was back to the desk of death to meet my doom.

"Where is she?!" a man burst into the station.

"Sir, I said to _take a seat!_" police officers tried to stop the man, but her attempt was wasted. I stood up and stepped in front of the man.

"And where do you think you're going?" I asked.

"Get out of my way, oldie." The entire station fell silent. You could have heard a pin drop. My hand involuntarily twitched towards my gun.

"What did you call me?"

"Detective Lassiter, how many times do I have to tell you to sit your ass down and finish your paper-" Chief Vick was starting her rant and then she noticed the man. "Who the hell are you?"

"Nathan Hayworth" the man said, pushing me aside. The chief groaned.

"No. I've had enough of you. Carlton, escort this man out."

"With pleasure" I grabbed the guys shoulder and started pushing him towards the exit. Then, the little bastard elbowed me in the gut. He pushed past me then followed the chief into her office. "Hey!" I said, clutching my gut. "Get back here! Agh! Son of a-"

"Detective?" that McNabb was looking at me. Watching me, waiting for me to explode. The whole damn station was.

"O'Hara…" I muttered.

"She's not here, Detective…" McNabb said with caution. I grabbed my phone and dialled the detective's number furiously.

"Carlton" O'Hara said in a dull voice.

"O'Hara, come down to the station" I said.

"It's my day off, Carlton. Can't you handle this without me?" Don't be selfish, O'Hara!

"I've tried, believe me-" Nathan ran out of the chief's office and made his way to my desk. He shuffled through all my paperwork, knocking it all down until he got last week's case "hey, hey HEY! PUT THOSE DOWN! WHERE THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!" My paperwork! I spent so long on it! "I swear, this guy's worst that Spencer."

"I thought you said that was impossible" O'Hara retorted. I did _not_ need this from her right now.

"I thought so too. Clearly I was wrong." Great. Now she's going to make me beg. "Please, O'Hara. I'm begging you. Just… come down here, deal with this idiot and then you can go back to whatever meaningless thing you had planned for your day off."

"Fine, fine. Just this once!" then the line went dead.

"Oh, thank God!"

* * *

Finally O'Hara arrived. And now, they were finally dealing with that intolerable man. And he appeared to even get under Spencer's skin.

"Hey!" Shawn yelled. "My methods may be a bit odd, a bit out there, a bit crazy, but they work, okay? I've solved more cases than you can even _begin_ to understand. And-" Shawn suddenly stopped talking as his eyes opened wide. He stared at Hayworth in shock.

"Oh my God…" Hayworth said. What. What could possibly make this idiot shocked?

"Nathan Hayworth?!" Shawn exclaimed with a huge grin on his face.

"Shawn Spencer!" Hayworth exclaimed in response. They moved into a huge hug. Of course. They would know each other.

"I knew it" I said. "I knew there was something I hated about that guy…"

"What are you doing here?!" Shawn asked, with that huge… stupid grin on his face.

"I live here!" Hayworth exclaimed.

"You live in Santa Barbara?"

"Yeah. For, like, the past two years. What are you doing here?"

"I live here. For the past 6 or 7 years."

"You finally settled down, huh?"

"Well, I had to" Shawn said. "I tried jumping around but uh…"

Both of their faces fell. Just slightly, barely noticeable. But I noticed it. O'Hara noticed it too.

"Shawn?" O'Hara asked.

"Yes?" Shawn answered, acting as if nothing happened.

"How is it that the two most intolerable people I have ever met know each other?" I asked. Hayworth and Spencer exchanged a victory smile.

"Well, Lassie face, it happened, what, 16 years ago?" Shawn asked.

"Damn. Yeah…" there it was again. That drop in the face. More like a twitch in the eye. It was hardly noticeable. And it only lasted half a second and then they went back to their usual annoying self.

"Worked at a casino in Las Vegas" Spencer said.

"Good times" Hayworth responded with a smile.

"Great" I said. "Well, if all you guys wanted was to reminisce, then congratulations. Mission accomplished. Now for the sake of justice, get the hell outta here."

"Actually" Hayworth said. That started him again. Great. "No. I didn't. You messed up big time!" the chief groaned.

"We didn't make any mistakes-"

"woah woah woah… wait chief…" Spencer said. Did… did he just tell the chief to be quiet? The chief. The person in charge. O'Hara and Chief stared at him in shock. "What's up, Nathan?" Spencer asked.

And suddenly everything got serious.

"Carl Jackson" Hayworth said. Spencer's face got serious.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" Spencer pulled Hayworth aside. And then they started to argue. O'Hara stared at me, one eyebrow raised.

"Have you ever heard of him?" I asked her. She shook her head.

"What did he want?" she asked me. I looked at the chief.

"He seems to be under the impression that we have the wrong man for the case we just solved" Vick said. Come _on!_ That's ridiculous! I hate Spencer, he angers me, disturbs me but dammit, he's good. He found loads of evidence and I'll be damned if anyone tries to discount them.

"Well then who in the hell does he think it is?" I asked. The chief sighed very loudly.

"The Hour Killer."


	4. Secrets of my Past

**So many uuuupdaaaates. All sooooo quicklyyy! Don't get too used to it.**

**Reviews are very welcome. So, please do review. Good, bad, excellent, horrific, I do not mind.**

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Present Day

Burton Guster's POV

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Finally. A day off.

Well, sort of. A day of Psych. It's still a weekday. Therefore, I still have my pharmaceutical route to do. Which, isn't that bad. A steady income and a straight forward job with no real emotional attachment… now that's what I'm talkin' about.

The last couple days have been just awful. So many sleepless nights spent on that killing case. It didn't even originate here. It was in LA. I thought it would stay there. But no. it had to come down to us.

I had never seen Shawn so caught up in a case. He was so determined to catch this guy and sure enough, he did. He always did. But I will never forget his face the second he heard about the killings in LA. It looked like he just… died. Then he was so determined to find the killer. Everybody could see how tense he was. Even Lassie could. He wouldn't push him like he usually did because… well… there was something about this case.

Thank God it was over.

RING RING

Who's calling me? They know I have work…

"Burton Guster" I answered.

"Gus? It's Juliet."

"Oh, hey Jules. What's up?"

"Um… I don't suppose you could come down to the station, could you?" But… it's my day off…

"What about Shawn?"

"That's… sort of what I need your help with…" Oh God.

"Is he okay? Did something happen? Did he get himself caught up in another stupid and completely dangerous case again?"

"No no! Wait, is that the first thing you think of whenever we call?"

"Yes." There was a pause.

"Don't blame you" Juliet finally said.

"Fine. I'll be over in just a minute" I said, giving in.

"Thank you, Gus. I'll see you soon then." The she hung up. Whatever stupid situation Shawn got himself into, I'm going to kill him for it. I was supposed to have my day off and now… nothing. I stacked all my papers together and then walked out. Hopefully, no one would notice I left. The last thing I need right now is for my boss to find out. Then who knows what lie Shawn will have to come up to save my job.

* * *

I walked into the station. Lassie and Jules were easy enough to find. They were sitting near their desks. Jules was massaging her temples while Lassie was pacing. Even Chief Vick was feeling a bit stressed. Shawn, however, was nowhere to be seen.

"Guster" Lassie said as soon as we made eye contact. "Get over here." I quickly walked over to him. Even when I'm helping him, he somehow manages to order me about.

"What's going on? Where's Shawn?" Lassie and Jules exchange glances before pointing to the hallway. There Shawn was, arguing with a man I'd never seen before.

"Who is that?" I asked. I turned to face the two detectives only to get blank stares.

"You don't know him?" Is this happening? Does Shawn know someone famous? Is that what's happening? No way, he wouldn't be able to hold that in. Should I know this guy? Who is he?

"No…" I said. "How long have they been arguing?"

"They've been at it for…" Lassie looked at his watch. "ten minutes now…" I didn't know Shawn's ADHD would allow him to hold a conversation for that long…

"What are they arguing about?"

"No idea" Jules said. "Whenever we get close to them they start whispering their arguments."

"We think it was about our last case. About Adam Clovers" Lassie said.

"That's ridiculous. Shawn spent hours on that case. I thought we had enough evidence to put that guy in jail for a very long time-"

"We do" Jules said.

"But apparently, that's not good enough for our new fan" Lassie said with a bit more hatred in his voice than usual.

"I'll go talk to them" I say, finally realising why they wanted me there in the first place. I started walking to Shawn and the mystery man.

"Shawn" the man said. "We have to tell them. You can't hide something this big from them-"

"Nathan, this is my secret to tell. Not yours. So shut up, go it?" Shawn had a look in his eyes. One that I haven't seen for years. Nathan caught my stare and realised that their conversation was not private anymore.

"Fine. I won't tell them. But you should. Every day you spend with them is a lie. You're lying through your teeth every time you solve one of your stupid cases." Nathan then walked passed Shawn and towards the detectives. Shawn turned around and finally I could see his face clearly. Sure enough, he was back to his usual self. A smile on his face and a joke at the tip of his tongue.

"Gus! What are you doing here? I thought you wanted a day off…" Shawn said. He's trying to play it cool. As if he could.

"I was called down here, Shawn. Because you were fighting with some guy. Who is he, anyways? I've never seen him before."

"That's Nathan Hayworth" Shawn said. He started walking away, towards the detectives, thinking I wouldn't need a bigger explanation. I followed closely behind him.

"Who is Nathan Hayworth?" I asked.

"A friend" Shawn said, eyes still on the detectives.

"Really? Because it didn't seem like it."

"Gus, I don't want to do this right now." Then he took off to see what the detectives were talking about.

"Listen, detectives, I haven't been entirely honest with you" Nathan said. Lassie and Jules exchanged glances.

"If it's about your theory on The Hour Killer, don't even start. We heard all about it" Lassie said with no patience.

"It is to do with that. But you don't understand. I know for a fact that he was behind this."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because… well, I assume you know about the three witnesses, right?" things got serious. Lassie's mocking smile faded and he looked Nathan dead in the eye.

"Yes." He said hesitantly.

"Well, Carl Jackson was one of them…" Juliet's jaw dropped as she stared at Lassiter in disbelief. Lassiter held up a finger to Juliet, still not believing him.

"And what makes you so sure that he was? Nothing was ever released about any of the witnesses. Your guess on who the witnesses were is as good as mine."

"Well, I know… because… I was the other one." Lassiter looked at him, still not fully believing his story. "Look, after the robbery I was put into a witness protection programme. We all were. Carl was moved to Chicago. I insisted on staying in LA because, well, that was home. But two years ago, some of the witness information was leaked. So they moved all three witnesses. By mere coincidence, Carl and I both ended up here in Santa Barbara.

"Nothing happened over the past 2 years, so they were going to move us back if we wanted to. I took them up on their offer. I was supposed to go back to my house in LA last week. But then, the killings happened. And they said I couldn't go there anymore. They didn't think it was The Hour Killer, but just to keep me safe, they told me to stay where I was.

"When Carl Jackson died, they were convinced it was The Hour Killer. But then Shawn here proved them wrong. I still think it was The Hour Killer, though. I think Shawn made a mistake." The two old friends exchanged a glare.

"I didn't make a mistake. It was Adam Clovers."

"Wait, I thought the identity of the Hour Killer remained a mystery. Couldn't Adam Clovers be the Hour Killer?" Juliet asked.

"No. I was there, Detective. The Hour Killer has a very interesting scar on his face from his eyebrow to his chin. No idea _how_ you get a scar like that, but he did. Not to mention all the tattoos. Adam Clovers doesn't even have a single scratch on his body."

"What about the third witness?" Lassiter asked.

"I don't know. His condition was a lot worse than ours so he had to have a little more protection. Last I heard, though, he was in Alaska." Lassiter raised his eyebrows. "They tried to get him as far away as possible." Shawn stared at Lassiter.

"You're not actually considering this, are you Lassie?" he asked. "I thought you said we had enough evidence to put Clovers away for a very long time!"

"Shawn, if we are dealing with the Hour Killer then we're dealing with a criminal mastermind. It is… possible… that he killed Jackson. Then, he could have left just enough evidence to frame someone…"

"This is ridiculous" Shawn muttered.

"Wait, wait, wait…" Juliet said. "If you lived in LA… then how do you know Shawn?"

"I wasn't lying when I said we met in Vegas. I worked there for a month, and then went home. Shawn worked there for much longer. "

"When was this?" I asked.

"I worked at the casino in February. You can go ahead and check that, too."

Liar. That dirty, dirty liar. Shawn sent me post cards every year he was gone. True, 1996 was the year that those post cards mysteriously disappeared. But Shawn sent me a letter in January. He said he had just signed a contract with the casino for a year. But then, due to an affair with the owners wife, he was fired. While it would appear in Shawn's work history, I know for a fact that Shawn was not in that casino in February.

* * *

Shawn stormed out of the station. I followed him, of course. He's my friend and I'm not going to let him just wander off aimlessly. Plus, I have questions for him. Many questions.

Shawn was outside the station, staring at the cars. I'm assuming he came with Juliet and now he has no way of getting home.

Lassiter and Juliet decided to reopen the LA killings case. Shawn… was not taking it well. All his hard work was wasted. Nathan, on the other hand, was over the moon. He was getting his way. I'm not sure if it's because of some old friendly rivalry, but it seemed that Nathan getting his way only pissed Shawn off even more.

"Need a ride?" I asked. Shawn turned around to face me. He tried to put a smile on his face but it didn't reach his eyes. This is odd. Shawn is usually very capable of hiding how he really felt about something. The fact that he was letting even a little fraction of a _glimpse_ into his true feelings was more than enough to worry about.

"Yeah. That'd be great" Shawn said and he walked towards my car.

"Where to?"

"Psych office. If Jules and Lassie are reopening this case, then I am too." So much for my day off… But hey, Shawn needs my help. I'm not going to deny it.

I drove him to the Psych office and it was immediately down to work. I, however, could not keep my mind off of Nathan.

* * *

"I just don't get it…" Shawn said after about an hour on the case. "All signs point to Clovers!" Shawn slammed all the papers down and sat on his desk, staring at his board.

There was a moment of silence.

"Look, Shawn. Why don't we just start off with the things we know are 100% true" I suggested.

"Scene of the crime. Jackson's body is on the floor, face down. The door was wide open and was opened from the inside. The murder weapon was the kitchen knife. There were no prints on the weapon." Shawn recited.

"So we know that Jackson opened the door for the killer."

"and seeing as he didn't run away screaming at the very sight of the man proves that it wasn't the Hour Killer-"

"We don't know that, Shawn." Shawn rubbed his eyes and groaned.

"We found Clovers' hair on the kitchen counter. We found his prints on the drawer that holds the knife. That's as good as finding his prints on the actual murder weapon!"

"Shawn-"

"Clovers worked with Jackson. Jackson was his boss. He admitted that on several occasions he wanted to _kill_ Jackson!"

"Shawn-"

"Jackson gave a promotion that Clovers was after to his secretary! Clovers wanted revenge! We got our selves an Othello case here! Clovers is Iago!"

"Iago didn't kill Othello, Shawn-"

"Whatever!" Shawn slumped into his chair, holding his head in his hands. I haven't seen Shawn like this in a very long time… I need to get his mind off this case for a while.

"Shawn, what were you talking about with that guy?"

"Nothing. Nathan was trying to convince me that I was wrong."

"I heard you talking about a secret…"

"Yeah. He's not buying whole 'Psychic' story. He thinks I should come clean…"

"Who _is_ Nathan Hayworth?"

"This guy who I thought was my friend. We worked at the casino together-"

"No you didn't" Shawn stared at me in shock. "you told me you got fired from your job in January. Nathan said he worked there in February. You just missed each other." Shawn pressed his lips together.

"Well, you must have read wrong. I was there in February. That's where we met."

"Okay, well then explain to me why I never got a single letter or post card from you in 1996?"

"What, you keeping tabs on me?" Shawn laughed and then looked at me. "You're not kidding, are you?"

"Nope."

"Gus! Don't be overly attached boyfriend. It's perfectly normal to lose contact for a bit-"

"Ever since you left after high school, you sent me a post card for every place you visited. That was your bare minimum. Sometimes you'd send me fully letters, but the norm was a post card. In 1996, I got a total of 2 post cards. I thought you were dead, Shawn. And I want to know why you fell off the face of the planet."

"You are being ridiculous" Shawn said. He stood up and headed for the door.

"Shawn, where are you going?"

"To my dad's. At least he'll help me solve this case."

"You don't have a ride-"

"I'll take a cab." He slammed the door shut.

Shawn doesn't understand. If he were me, he'd feel the same. I remember _exactly_ what Shawn was like when he came back in 1999. Whatever happened in 1996 was haunting him, even today.


	5. What are friends for?

**Lovely and quick response from my last chapter. Just the way I like 'em.**

**I'm rather happy I stayed up late to finish this chapter. Because, honestly, if I don't update something now… who knows when I'll update again! I've got a busy weekend, so anticipate long update gaps.**

**Also, as it is rather late, there may be some errors in this chapter… sorry…**

**Review please! Good, Bad, Horrible, Excellent. Any type of review! I love hearing from you guys!**

* * *

1999

Burton Guster

* * *

I haven't gotten a single post card from Shawn in exactly three months and twenty seven days. Everybody calls me paranoid and anxious. They don't understand. Shawn is my best friend. Has been for a very long time. He'd always send me post cards, letters. One time, he even sent me a key chain. And now I haven't heard from him in months.

I still remember 1995. I had gotten a letter from him in December.

_'Dear Gus,_

_You won't believe what just happened. I just got offered a contract. Yes! I know, I'm settling down! I have a job with a steady income. And here you thought I was just going to jump from place to place. Do me a favour, rub it in my dads face. He thought I'd never get a good job!_

_What, you may ask, is this super awesome new job? I'm working at a casino. My job? Serve drinks. That's it! I'm loving it!_

_Take care, man._

_Shawn.'_

That put me in high spirits for quite a while. Shawn was settling down. It was about time. I even started thinking that soon I could actually visit Shawn in the place that he called home. I thought I'd feel awful about that, but I didn't. I was just happy that he had finally settled down. That was stupid of me to think.

I got another post card from him in January, 1996.

_'Dear Gus,_

_Slept with the owners daughter. My bad. I lost my job. On the plus side, since we both already signed my contract, I still get paid until June! Don't worry though. I'm already looking for jobs. I think I might go East. I'm still far too close to home._

_Do me a favour… don't tell me dad about me getting fired. I'll tell you more about whatever crazy job I get next later._

_Take care,_

_Shawn'_

It was short and to the point. Of course I worried about Shawn, but he always kept me notified. At least there was at least that. I tried to fill in Mr Spencer as much as possible… unless Shawn specifically told me not to tell his dad something. More often than not, it was all fine to tell. They had a big fall out before Shawn left but that did not mean that Mr Spencer stopped worrying about his son. Sure, his pride was far too high to ever call and apologize, but that didn't mean he didn't care.

1996. That was an awful year.

I checked my mail every day, waiting… hoping. I just wanted word that Shawn was okay. June came and went and all I could think of was that Shawn was no longer being paid. What if something awful happened? Was he even alive?

October came and went. At that point, I was convinced he was dead. The worst part of it was that no one would really know. I mean, surely someone would find his body, but that'd be it. Mr Spencer would find out eventually. I would probably find out through him but that was it. There was no one else who would know. And Shawn deserved so much more than that.

I was already thinking of some funeral ideas by November. I was thinking of what songs to play, what theme it should be (because, let's face it, Shawn wouldn't want anyone to be upset when he died. He'd want us all to dress up and party).

It was December 14th when I finally got a postcard in the mail. I quickly opened it to find the most relieving three words I had ever seen in my life.

_'I'm Okay. –Shawn.'_

That was three years ago. Shawn put me through hell. Almost a whole year without hearing a word from him. I swear, if he puts me through that again I will find him and I will kill him. You just can't do that to a man! You just can't! I still check my mail every day. Surely Shawn will send me another post card. Even if it only had one word on it. I don't care. Just a sign that he's alive would do.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

I looked up at the door. It's 2 o'clock in the morning on a Saturday. I have no friends who like to party… so who the hell could this be?

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

This is getting creepy. I grabbed a knife from the kitchen counter and approached the door with caution. I highly doubt a killer would announce their entrance so loudly, but you never know. And I'd rather have this paranoid precaution than be dead on the floor.

"Who's there?" I asked.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Come on. Fearless Guster. I am _fearless_ Guster.

I grabbed the door knob and turned it. I quickly swung open the door and held the knife up.

A man was holding on to the door frame with his right hand. His head was resting on his outstretched arm and he was clearly using his left hand to knock. He didn't even have the energy to look up or even greet me.

"Um… do you need help? An ambulance or-"

"Just a friend" the man looked up to reveal… no… it couldn't be…

"Shawn?!" I cried. A small smile appeared on the dead man's face.

"The one and only-" I dropped my knife and ran into Shawn, hugging him as tight as I could. "Woah! Nice to see you too, buddy."

"Shawn, what happened to you? You're just skin and bones!"

"Yeah… that tends to happen when you don't have very much money…" Oh my God. He needs my help, that's why he's here! And I'm just standing here at the door like an idiot. He probably needs food. And a place to sleep. And money. And a shower. What am I still doing standing there?!

"Get in here" I pulled my old friend into my house and dragged him to the kitchen. "What you need, is a nice bowl of warm soup." I turned the stove on and quickly started to put together a simple tomato soup. "Where have you been, anyways? I haven't heard from you in months!"

He didn't have money. Oh my God! Here I thought he had died or was ignoring me, when in reality he didn't have any money! What if he spent the last of his money on his last letter to me?!

"Um… sorta jumping around, really. No one place in particular" Shawn said.

"Yeah" I said, still not really making any eye contact with him. "I can tell from all those post cards. New York, Vegas, Chicago… Alaska… Crazy places." I turned around to face him and looked at him – really looked at him – for the first time.

He literally was like a dead man on his feet. He had the smallest of smiles on his face but it didn't even touch his eyes. He didn't look up either. He kept his head down. And his hair… last I checked all Shawn ever cared about was his hair. And now look at it… a total mess. Normally, Shawn wouldn't let you see even the smallest of emotions. And now he was a total wreck.

"Shawn, are you okay?" stupid question. Of course he wasn't! Shawn looked up and made eye contact with me.

For as long as I live I hope to never see that look every again.

The look of lost hope. The look of complete and total despair. The child I had known in Shawn had died – no… it was murdered. Butchered. Tortured. I had looked into death's eyes.

"No" Shawn answered after a very long pause. "No… I'm… I'm really not…" and there, right before my eyes, Shawn eyes filled with water to the point that it just spilled out in a never ending waterfall. All I could do was hold my best friend and assure him that whatever had happened was over now.

Now, he is safe.

* * *

I woke up at 7:30. I have work to go to. I got out of bed and saw the dirty dishes in the sink. That can wait 'til later. I do not have the energy do deal with that at the moment. I then walked into the living room where Shawn was sleeping. To my extreme surprise, Shawn was already up. He was sitting on the couch looking out the window with a blank look on his face.

"Shawn?" I called out. His head snapped towards me. "Feel free to stay here as long as you want. As long as you need." Shawn turned his head back to the window and continued to stare. I walked over and sat next to him. "If there's anything I can do to help – anything at all – you just tell me. Got it?"

"There's nothing you can do-"

"Anything, Shawn." There was a moment of silence.

"I wouldn't say no to a pineapple smoothie…" It's not much, but it's a start.

"Sure thing" I said and headed for the door.

"Gus" Shawn called out.

"Yeah?"

"… Thanks…" I nodded, but honestly…

What are friends for?


	6. I Worry About You

**Well… looks like I am updating this weekend… okay…**

**Oh, I also noticed a mistake in the last chapter that I made. It's not a big mistake. It's just that Shawn slept with the casino owner's wife, not his daughter. Not a big detail, just trying to keep it consistent. Like I said, though. It was late yesterday. I was tired. **

**Short chapter. Sorry! Also, it's rather late today as well. Prepare yourselves for errors.**

**One more thing. I only just realised how long this FanFic is going to be. I mean, this is the 6****th**** chapter and… we truly are only just getting started.**

**Great. Now these Authors Notes are getting way too long. Sorry!**

**Reviews please! Love Reviews! Love them very much. So please do review! **

* * *

Present Day

Henry Spencer

* * *

It's 3 o'clock. No sign of Shawn anywhere. Does this… does this really mean that I have the day off? I didn't think I'd have a free day for a while. But… what do I do with this free time? I could work out. Or maybe I could go to work, get some more hours in or something like that. Hmm… don't really feel like doing any of those, really… Fishing it is.

I had my fishing rod in hand, hat on head and keys in hand. What do I see? My son –who, apparently, has amazing timing – lounging on my favourite couch in my living room.

"Dad, I need your help…" Shawn said. So much for my fishing trip.

"Shawn, how did you get in my house?"

"That lamp outside is an obvious fake. I opened it up, and sure enough your spare key was there." Dammit. I knew I should have hid it more thoroughly. "Come on, dad. At least _try_ to challenge me." I put down my fishing stuff and took off my hat. I sat on the couch next to my intolerable son and let out a big sigh.

"Tell me about your case."

"It's the Clovers' case."

"I thought you solved that one."

"Not anymore. They opened it up again because they think there's a possibility it could be The Hour Killer." Shawn looked far more disturbed about his than he should be. He's usually alright with reopening cases. It means he got paid more. But this time, not so much. He looked… disturbed by it.

"Well, Shawn, I was still in the police force when The Hour Killer attacked. Believe me, if there's even a chance that it's him, it's best to just make sure. Better safe than sorry." This already seemed to make Shawn feel more at ease.

"So you don't think it was him?" Shawn asked.

"If the SBPD think there's a chance, then there is reason to believe it could be him." Shawn just shook his head. "Shawn, you have to approach this as if you think The Hour Killer is your guy. If you find that there is no motive and no way to place him at the time and place of the murder, then you can dismiss him as a suspect."

"I thought it was innocent until proven guilty…"

"That's only when evidence is involved. With theories, there are no rules. Now, come on. Think."

"Well, for starters, the door was opened from the inside. Meaning that Jackson had opened the door. I have a feeling that if he opened the door to The Hour Killer, he wouldn't just stand there and welcome him inside. Maybe he'd call the cops, or just run."

"Wasn't the murder weapon the kitchen knife?"

"Yeah. So?"

"Doesn't that mean the murderer would have had to go into the kitchen before he murdered Jackson."

"That just supports what I said, dad. He would have noticed if the Hour Killer was raiding his kitchen for something to murder him with."

"You're not being very open minded-"

"That's because it was Clovers! He had prints all over the place and-… I know, I know. I have to think of it as if The Hour Killer was the murder. Fine." Shawn closed his eyes and started to think. Then, Shawn's eyes shot open. "The Hour Killer opened the door…"

"What?"

"No, think about it. I was right. Jackson wouldn't open the door to The Hour Killer. He would have run away screaming. And The Hour Killer knew that. So he snuck into his house, grabbed a knife from his kitchen and hid. He waited for Jackson to get back from work. Jackson gets back from work. Maybe Clovers is with him. Maybe they're discussing the job promotion or something like that. So The Hour Killer waits for Clovers to leave. He can't have another witness. As soon as Clovers leaves, The Hour Killer gets out of his hiding spot and stabs Jackson. Then, he just walks out the front door."

"Good. Now you have your theory. You need to go and support that with evidence. For example, when was Clovers there? It has to be close the time of death. What was Clovers talking about with Jackson? You also have to find a motive for The Hour Killer as well. And a proper one too. Not a stupid one like you usually do."

"Dad, Jackson was one of the three victims from his crimes in '96" Shawn's voice was suddenly quiet. There was… fear… in his voice. "That's why he was after him. Information was leaked about the witnesses two years ago. That's how he knew where to find Jackson."

"Not good enough, Shawn. That was two years ago."

"What?"

"The information was leaked two years ago. The killings started two weeks ago. What happened in the last few weeks that made The Hour Killer suddenly decide that now was the time to go looking for and killing his witnesses?" Shawn shuddered and shook his head. What the hell is up with this kid today?

"Great. Just great."

"Are you okay, Shawn?"

"Yeah. It's just crazy to think a guy like this can still be out there." That is true. But that is why we need good cops and good detectives. To stop people like The Hour Killer from roaming about the streets as a free man.

"I know."

"I'm going to call Jules. I'll see if she'll let me talk to Clovers some time today."

"Good idea." Shawn started dialling the number. "Oh, Shawn?" He turned to face me, still putting his phone to his ear. "Be careful, won't you?"

"Aren't I always?" Shawn said. Then he turned his attention to the phone. "Jules! Hey!"

I sighed. No, Shawn. You are never careful. And that is why I worry about you. Every. Single. Day.


	7. Criminal Record

**And here I thought I wouldn't update at all this weekend… I guess we'll just have to wait and see when I update. 'Cause apparently, even I don't know when I'll be updating.**

**Rather short chapter. Sorry. Next chapter will be longer!**

**Please review! I love reviews! Very, very much. Good, bad, horrible, excellent or just plain old corrections. I do not mind. I enjoy reading what you all think.**

* * *

Present Day

Juliet O'Hara POV

* * *

Poor Shawn. He looked so upset when Carlton and I decided to reopen the Clovers' case. He looked heart broken, betrayed and terrified all at once. Carlton told me to ignore Shawn, to just focus on the case. But… it's hard. I know Shawn. He's probably just gone straight to the Psych office, desperately trying to prove he was right the first time. He doesn't take making mistakes light heartedly.

Carlton and I made our way into the interrogation room. Nathan Hayworth was in the interrogation room. No, we don't think he's The Hour Killer. It just seems that the safest place for him to be at the moment is in the station. The interrogation rooms lets us keep tabs on him and keep him safe. Best of both worlds.

Carlton was talking. About something. Not sure what, really. The whole walk over, all I could think of was Shawn's face when he stormed out of the station. Carlton didn't seem very effected by it. But, it _is_ Carlton after all. Not much seems to have a very big impact on him. Definitely not if it was involving Shawn.

"And then I say we- O'Hara, are you even listening?"

"Sorry, what?"

"You were thinking of Spencer, weren't you?" of course I was. And he knew I was. So instead, I just held my head high. Carlton sighed in disapproval. "I told you to stop worrying. I'm sure he out somewhere ruining someone else's day. Now, let's just talk to Hayworth about The Hour Killer and get on with this case." Carlton's right. I should focus on our case.

"Fine" I said, admitting defeat. "But I'm calling Shawn after this questioning."

"No you're not" Carlton said as he stepped into the interrogation room. It's so cute when Carlton thinks he can tell me when I'm allowed to call my boyfriend.

I followed Carlton into the room to see Nathan sitting in the chair with his feet up on top of the table. Carlton stared at him in hatred. He walked towards Nathan and pushed his feet off the table before taking a seat across from him. I then sat next to my partner, looking carefully. He needs to calm down.

"What can I do for you, detectives?" Nathan asked.

"We just want to ask some questions" I assured him. He just shrugged.

"We went ahead and looked what type of information about the witnesses were leaked" Carlton said. "We found Jackson's. It was leaked that he was born in 1975 and that he had blonde hair and brown eyes. We also found information on another witness released. Black hair, brown eyes born in 1977."

"Sounds like me" Nathan said. Carlton and I exchanged glances.

"We figured that" Carlton said. Nathan stared at us, confused.

"We were hoping you could tell us something about the third witness" I said, putting an end to the eye conversations.

"Oh" Nathan said. "Nope. Sorry."

"We just want to make sure they're safe too-"

"They are."

"Why won't you tell us?" Carlton asked.

"Confidentiality. Come on, you're cops. You should understand that."

RING RING

"O'Hara, turn that phone off."

"It's Shawn, Carlton" I said angrily and picked up the phone. "Shawn?"

'Jules! Hey!'

"Hey. Where are you?"

'I'm at my dad's house. Just working on the case –'

"You're working on the case?" I couldn't help but ask.

'Yeah. I have to, Jules. Anyways, I was just wondering, could I come in to talk to Adam Clovers sometime?' I put my hand over my phone and turned to Carlton.

"When does Adam Clovers come in?" I asked him.

"Two days. Why?" Carlton asked.

"Shawn wants to talk to him."

"I don't remember putting him on the case." I shot him a look. "Fine. Never mind."

"Adam Clovers doesn't come in for another two days. I'll call you when he gets here, though."

'Thanks. Still up for dinner tonight?'

"Wouldn't miss it. Shawn, be safe, okay?" there was just a laugh on the other end of the phone.

'Aren't I always?' then he hung up. I sighed and put my phone in my pocket.

"Can we return to Hayworth now, O'Hara?"

"Actually, if you don't mind, I want to ask _you_ a couple questions" Nathan said. Carlton and I exchanged confused looks. "How does Shawn fit into the police department?"

"He has a psychic detective agency and the SBPD sometimes asks for his help" I said.

"Oh, that makes sense."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well, Shawn couldn't work in a police department. Guess he found a way after all." I looked at Carlton.

"He has a criminal record" he explained to me.

I'm sorry… what?

Hayworth continued to ask questions about Shawn, but honestly, I just stopped paying attention. How could Shawn have kept this from me? This is pretty huge. How could I not have known. And an even worse thought came into my mind… what else is Shawn hiding from me?

* * *

8 o'clock came and went. I sat at my desk. Shawn was expecting me to be at the Psych office. I stood him up. I can't believe I did that. I stood him up. I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I just can't get it out of my head. Shawn has a criminal record. I'm a detective. Wouldn't that be something you tell your girlfriend who's a detective? Maybe not on the first date, no. but after we've been dating for, what, a year? That's something you would throw in.

Why would he keep that from me?


	8. Crime Scene

**Don't think I'll be updating tomorrow. Because I won't have internet. So I actually shouldn't be able to update. Wednesday, maybe. Not sure. We'll see.**

**It's late. Prepare for some mistakes.**

**Things are about to get super-duper serious. So you better get ready.**

**Please review! Good, bad, great, terrible, don't mind. Just love reading reviews!**

* * *

Present Day

Burton Guster

* * *

I drove to the Psych office, driving faster then I normally do. I hadn't heard from Shawn since yesterday when he stormed out on me. I hope his date with Juliet was able to put him in a better mood than he was in yesterday. I hate it when Shawn and I fight and I just hope that Juliet was able to pick him up again when he was down.

When I arrived at the Psych office, I was shocked to see Shawn's motorbike parked out front. It's only ten in the morning. Since when did he come in to work early? Ever?

I quickly jumped out of the car and pulled out our office keys. I pushed down the front door handle to see that the front door was unlocked. I locked the door before I left yesterday. Shawn wouldn't leave the door unlocked either.

I burst through the door to a sight that shocked me. The whole room was set up as a date. The table was set, candles were in place and rose petals were set up all over the place. On the couch, under the window was Shawn. He was in a suit, tie and all, fast asleep.

"Shawn!" I called out.

"Jules?" Shawn stirred and almost fell off the couch. He sat up and looked around. "Gus?" he asked, still confused. I just nodded. "Where's Jules?"

"I don't know. Probably back at the station…" Did... Juliet… no. She wouldn't. She's not like that. Shawn sighed and flopped back down onto the couch.

"She stood me up, didn't she?" She did! But… why?!

"Shawn, I'm sure she was swamped at work. What with this case being opened up again." He just groaned. "Come on. Get up! We got a case to work!"

"I don't want to…" Shawn said. I moved towards the stupid lockers that Shawn had installed. I opened it and pulled out spare clothes that I decided to store here. I tossed them at Shawn.

"Get dressed, Shawn."

Shawn slowly lifted himself up and grabbed the clothes I tossed to him. He made his way over to his desk and started taking off his suit jacket, tie and shirt. I decided in the meantime to check our mail. I picked up our stack of envelopes.

Bills. Bills. Bills. Case thanks. Newsletters. Bills. Bills.

I put the unreasonable large stack of papers on my desk. I looked back at the door and noticed a letter I had missed before. I picked it up and saw Shawn's name scrawled on top of it. I looked back and Shawn and saw he still had his back facing me. Surely he wouldn't mind if I just snuck a little peak at this letter. After all, he was already hiding so much from me. I'm sure I deserve _one_ truth…

Suddenly, there was a hand on my shoulder. I slowly and carefully glanced over my shoulder to see a fully dressed Shawn staring at the letter in my hand.

"What you got there, buddy?" he asked me.

"Letter for you…" I'm not sure if he was oblivious of the fact that I was going to read his messages or if he was just choosing to ignore it to avoid another argument. Either way, he accepted the letter from me and moved towards his desk. He opened the letter and read the message carefully. If Shawn was even a little emotionally attached to the letter, it didn't show. He tossed it aside and continued to change.

"What was it?" I asked, trying to sound innocent.

"Just some stupid letter from a friend" He said, buttoning up his shirt. He picked up the letter again, put it in his drawer and locked it with a key.

He… locked it with a key. He never did that. Why was he doing it now? Before I even had the chance to ask anything else about the letter, Shawn grabbed his jacket and walked out the door.

"Come on, Gus! We're going to Jackson's house!"

"You must be out of your damn mind!"

"Fine, fine" Shawn said, realising his mistake. "We're getting breakfast. Breakfast burrito and a pineapple smoothie."

"You know that's right…"

* * *

We got to Jackson's apartment building at around two o'clock. Our breakfast kind of turned into a brunch. We had waffles, toast and a burrito, all topped off with the wonderfulness that is a pineapple smoothie.

We stepped in the building and climbed up the never ending stairs. Shawn ducked under the crime scene tape and walked into the Jackson living room we had gotten so used to. Shawn did a brief check of his surroundings before he started walking around in circles.

"What exactly are we looking for?" I asked.

"A laptop… or… something else…"

"That's helpful" I muttered. "Why exactly?"

"Because, Gus. We have to investigate as if The Hour Killer was a suspect."

"I thought you didn't believe that…"

"Better safe than sorry." Shawn's attention was the diverted to a closet that was wide open. He quickly approached it and looked inside. "Gus, come over here." I sighed, but walked over him. I swear, if he gets me to squeeze into that closet, I'm going to-

"See if you can squeeze into this closet" Shawn said. I just stared at him. There's no way. "I just need to see if a grown man could fit into this closet and still be able to close the door. It's the perfect hiding place, Gus!"

"Can I know what your crazy theory is?" Shawn smiled at me, something I haven't seen in a while, before answering.

"It's simple, really. I think _if_ it was The Hour Killer, then he would have been here before Clovers was here. The Hour Killer didn't want to deal with another witness, so instead he just hid and waited for Clovers to leave. Immediately after Clovers left, The Hour Killer killed Jackson." It does kind of make sense… "Now will you take one for the team and just squeeze into that closet?"

"Fine!" I said at last. He better be grateful. I squeezed inside and fit quite easily. Shawn closed the door behind me and took a step back. "Well?" I asked.

"Dude, I was totally kidding" Shawn said laughing. I burst out of the closet. He was _what_ now? "It's obvious a full grown man could fit in that closet. And it's obvious that one did. The clothes that are hanging are pushed aside. The shoes on the floor are also pushed aside to make way for feet. You didn't have to crawl in there."

He's had a bad night. Let him have his fun. He hasn't had any fun for a very long time, Gus. Don't be mad. Don't be mad. _Don't be mad_.

"Now what?" I asked, trying very hard to keep my voice under control.

"Okay, so we have the how, we have the when… we just need the why…" what?

"We have the why, Shawn. Jackson was a witness-"

"No, Gus. You don't understand. The information about Jackson was leaked out _two years ago_. If The Hour Killer wanted him dead because he witnessed one of his crime, wouldn't you think the killings would have started a lot sooner than this?"

"Maybe Jackson was well hidden."

"Could be. But remember, the killings started in LA. It's not like The Hour Killer knew where to look."

"Wait, wait, wait. I thought the LA case and this case were two unrelated killings."

"I did too when I thought the killer was Clovers. If the killer is in fact The Hour Killer…" Shawn shook his head, letting his point trail off.

We both looked around the apartment, searching for, well, anything. Finally, Shawn found a desktop computer in a study.

"Oh, Jackson. Always making me work…" I barely heard Shawn say that. But I did. I am positive that's what he said. Did… did he know Jackson? Before I even had the chance to ask, Shawn started working. "Right. How do I turn this thing on?"

I pushed a button on the back of the monitor and just stared at Shawn.

"Maybe, I should take it from here…" I suggested. Shawn nodded and stood up from the seat. I sat down and worked my magic. Password. Password. Password. Every thing I tried to do required a password.

"That sure is a lot of protection…" Shawn noted. I nodded.

"I don't think I'll be able to crack all of these…" Shawn's face lit up.

"Try cracken01." I rolled my eyes at him.

"Shawn, don't just guess. It's probably one of those software's where if after three guesses the password is still wrong it deletes all the files."

"Firstly, don't make up names like software. Secondly, Gus I doubt that even exists. If it did, wouldn't most people use it?"

"I'm not making anything up and most people_ do_ use it, Shawn. But only if they're really trying to hide something…"

"Just try the password."

"No."

"Do it."

"No."

"Do it."

"No."

"Do it!"

"Fine!" I typed in the password, expecting it to reject is. But, much to my amazement, it was correct. I turned to look at Shawn, not even trying to hide the look of surprise on my face. "How did you…?"

"Lucky guess" Shawn said and he pushed me off the chair. "Now, let's see what this guy was hiding…"

Suddenly, windows started popping up. Word documents, internet pages, google maps. The whole package deal. Then I realized… Jackson was tracking someone. Who, I don't know. But there… it's a sketch of-

"The Hour Killer" Shawn said out loud, staring at the same sketch I was.

"He was tracking The Hour Killer?!" Shawn just nodded.

Then, a hacking system opened. Without touching anything, this computer hacked into the LAPD data file and it opened up the robbery case of '96. It revealed everything. The details of the robbery, crime scene photos, and even the statement from the witnesses. Shawn scrolled down just a bit to reveal the witnesses information. Shawn suddenly closed the screen and shutdown the computer.

"What the- what are you doing?" I asked. Shawn just stared at the screen.

"This computer isn't safe" Shawn said. I just stared at him. When did he become good at technology?

"What makes you say that?"

"Gus, I wasn't controlling the computer. I didn't make the documents open or the internet pages open and I certainly did not hack into the LAPD."

"I get it" I said. "someone has access to this computer. For some reason, this is the only computer that will get into the LAPD case files."

"Do you know what that means?" Shawn asked, looking terrified.

"I… I don't know…"

"Whoever was accessing the computer right now, whoever accessed the computer when Jackson was still alive, now knows that someone is here. And that person could very well be the killer."

Shawn and I stared at each other for exactly two seconds before we ran for the door. We opened the door, ducked under the crime scene tape and ran down the stairs. When we finally made it outside the building, we starting laughing. Either we made it out just in time, or we majorly overreacted to the whole situation-

BOOM

The sound of a gun echoed around us and the light behind Shawn went out. Someone was shooting at us! People around the neighbourhood were running and screaming. Shawn and I didn't speak, we just ran. I looked behind me to see that Shawn was running in the opposite direction to me. The sound of another gunshot echoed throughout the town and I saw Shawn duck his head down. Whoever the shooter was, they weren't after me. They were after Shawn!

I turned around and started chasing after my best friend. I saw Shawn take a sharp turn left and I followed him. I turned the corner only to find… nothing. No Shawn, no shooter. Just an empty street. I was sure I saw Shawn turn in here. I'm positive. He must have. So… where is he?

"Shawn?!" I called out. No response. "Shawn where are you?!" I started wandering around. The shootings had stopped. Hopefully Shawn was safe.

* * *

It's been three hours since I last saw Shawn. I'm terrified.

I'm waiting in my car, phone in hand. I've called Shawn God knows how many times. I've debated calling Juliet but every time I punch in her number, I remember how she stood Shawn up. Maybe she wasn't the person to talk to right now. Then I'd think of Mr Spencer but… I think he'd just end up arguing with me and even Shawn after we found him. That left Lassie. That just… wouldn't work. At all. Ever.

In the distance, I see him. It's Shawn! He's walking towards me! No… oh God, he's limping!

I ran out of my car and ran up to Shawn, completely ignoring the fact that my key was still in ignition and my door was wide open. I approached Shawn and took a good look at him. He had a black eye starting to form and his right leg – the foot he was limping with – had a tear in the jeans and blood pouring down. Shawn looked up at me and smiled sheepishly.

"I may have tripped" he said. I wrapped his arm around me and supported him on his walk towards my car. I made sure he was strapped in before I walked over and sat in the driver's seat.

"What the hell happened?"

"Nothing really. I didn't get a good look at the man." I looked at Shawn, clearly showing him I was going to need a lot more detail than that. Shawn sighed but nodded. "I turned the corner and whoever was shooting at us caught up with me. He pulled me aside out of view. I saw you looking for me but… couldn't really do or say anything. As soon as you left, I made another sprint for it. I tripped and the guy caught up with me again. He punched me and… honestly… I don't remember much after that."

He's hiding something. That much is obvious. What he's hiding, I don't know. Maybe it's a pride issue and maybe he is trying to keep a major detail away from me. Then I noticed, he was clutching onto a letter with his name scrawled on the back of it, just like the letter from the morning.

"What's that?" I asked, gesturing at the letter.

"Huh?" Shawn looked down to see he was still holding it. "Oh… nothing important." Shawn shoved the letter back into his pocket and looked out the window.

"Where to?" I asked.

"Psych office" I gave him a look. He does _not_ need to be working right now. He needs to rest. "Don't worry, Gus. I just want to put down this new evidence on the board at the office. Plus, I need to clean up, get my clothes and my motorbike."

Fair enough.

* * *

When we arrived at Psych office at around 7 o'clock. We had the dinner that Shawn and Juliet were meant to have yesterday and then I helped him clear him. As I was helping him put up the new evidence on his board, I saw him sneak over to his desk. He pulled a key out from his pocket, opened his drawer and placed his new letter inside. Then, he pushed it closed and locked it with the key once again.

Shawn was not letting me stay at the Psych office alone. There goes my plan to sneak a try at opening his secret drawer. Maybe that was exactly why he didn't want me staying late. I don't know. Either way, I wasn't allowing him to stay late either. We both walked out together, said goodbye and then drove off in opposite directions.

I don't know what Shawn is hiding from me. What I do know is that if I don't find out soon, it could be the end of Shawn as we know it.


	9. The Painting

**Hello All! Internet is back, so I give you UPDATES! (Well, update… singular… for now…)**

**Originally, this was going to be a much longer chapter. But then, I realised that the two halves of this chapter do not flow well together at all. You'll see. So, I cut the chapter in half. So this chapter is rather short and the next chapter will be kinda short as well.**

**Please Review! Good, bad, excellent, horrible, long, short. Any will do. I appreciate and love all types.**

* * *

Present Day

Henry Spencer POV

* * *

I hadn't heard from Shawn or Gus all of yesterday. It's not always a bad thing, but after hearing that he went back on the case… it's been worrying. Just a simple text would be fine. Just to know he isn't, well, dead. Or hurt in anyway.

I checked my phone for about the fifth time today. It's only 12:30, but it's become a routine of mine. Whenever Shawn is on a dangerous case I find myself waking up earlier, going to bed later, pulling extra hours at work and checking my phone every ten minutes. Of course, I don't let Shawn know. He'd never let me live it down. Ever.

RING RING

I practically jumped out of my seat and lunged myself to the kitchen counter where my phone was. I fumbled around with it, struggling to find the answer button.

"Hello? Shawn?" I said when I finally managed to answer the phone.

"Uh… no, Mr Spencer. It's Gus. Shawn's a bit too stubborn to admit it, but I think we need your help. Do you mind if we come over?" He needs my help? Is he hurt? What the hell did he do this time?!

"Fine, fine" I said. "Just make it quick." I hung up the phone and then sat by the window, waiting for my son to come.

When he finally did, I was not even a little surprised to see that it was really Gus who was pushing for them to come here. Shawn walked out of Gus' ridiculous car while arguing with him. Then, he limped towards the door… He turned towards the window and I noticed a black eye.

He limped? Black eye?

Dear God, what the hell did they get up to yesterday?

I heard them knock on the door. I waited a short while before answering the door. I have to at least make it _seem_ like I wasn't watching the driveway waiting for them.

I opened the door and put on a fake look of surprise as I "noticed" his black eye.

"What the hell happened to you?" I asked.

"Hi, dad! Nice to see you too!" Shawn said squeezed through the door frame. He flopped down onto the couch in front of the TV and put his leg up. I turned to Gus.

"What the hell happened to him?" I asked again. Gus just shrugged.

"You're guess is as good as mine. He's not telling me anything."

"You weren't with him?"

"Well, not really. We got a bit separated." I stared at Gus for a bit before turning back to Shawn.

"Let me see" I said to him.

"It's fine, dad. I just tripped. A little bruising. No big deal."

"Let me see, Shawn." He just sighed and then rolled up his pants to reveal a huge gash going from the top of his knee down to his ankle.

"Shawn, I want you to tell me exactly what you got yourself into yesterday. And I want you to tell me right now." There is no way he got that gash by accident. There is no way a cut like that was caused by a simple accident. Someone did that to Shawn.

"Dad, come on-"

"Don't you feed me any lies. I want the honest truth." So this is why Gus wanted my help. He couldn't get the truth out of Shawn. And he thought I could. Please. If Shawn does not want us to know, we never will.

"What do you think, dad?! We're on a case where six people have died and we're getting closer and closer to finding out who it is. They're trying to keep us away from the case. But you know what that proves? That we're getting close."

"Shawn, for once in your life, will you please take this seriously? You could have gotten killed yesterday." Shawn just stood up and started heading towards the stairs.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"To take a leak" Shawn said and limped his way upstairs. I turned to Gus and anxiously awaited an explanation of what happened yesterday. He quickly explained what happened. He explained what they found, what they thought it meant, what they planned to ask Clovers and finally, he explained the shootings.

He was hesitant to explain at first. He didn't want me to worry. But after a few seconds of glaring, he quickly confessed everything. How they got separated. How he waited hours for Shawn to show up again. He was in the middle of explaining the letters Shawn was receiving when all of a sudden we both looked up to see Shawn stumbling down the stairs and hurrying towards me.

"When did you get that stupid painting?" Shawn demanded.

"What are you talking about? What painting? Shawn, are you okay? You don't look so good-"

"That sunflower painting above your bed. When did you get it?"

"What were you doing in my room?"

"WHEN DID YOU GET IT, DAD?!" Shawn yelled. Gus and I exchanged a very shocked look.

"Um… a couple days ago…" Shawn nodded and then headed for the door. Gus stared after his friend and then chased after him, calling out his name.

What the hell is going on?


	10. The Hat

**Hello! Got my update in when I wanted to. Yay!**

**Like I said with the last chapter. This chapter and the last chapter were originally meant to be one chapter but it didn't work well together. So they got split up.**

**Things are about to get super serious. So brace yourselves.**

**Reviews! I love reviews! The good, the bad all types. I just love hearing what you guys thing so please review!**

* * *

Present Day

Henry Spencer POV

* * *

I don't know what happened yesterday. I really don't. I tried calling him a bit after he left yesterday, but there was no reply. I sent him a couple texts but I doubt he even read it. This morning, I got a call from the Chief asking me to come in for work. I left a letter inside, just in case Shawn tried to sneak in. I don't know what's happening with Shawn, but I constantly make sure he knows where I am.

At the station, I see everyone working hard. Adam Clovers was being brought in. it was an unusual situation. He was originally supposed to come in today to be put into jail. But now, seeing as he could be innocent, he's just locked up an interrogation room.

Lassiter called Shawn to tell him his suspect was ready for questioning. To my extreme annoyance, Shawn replied to the phone call almost instantly. Meaning… Shawn was ignoring me. Why? I have done nothing wrong. Whatever's bothering him, he knows he can come to me about it. He doesn't have to keep it to himself.

Shawn arrived at the station a little after 1 o'clock. To my surprise he was alone. He quickly approached Lassiter and Juliet, struggling but just managing to avoid eye contact with me. Any contact with me, really. Shawn and Juliet seemed to argue for a bit before Gus finally arrived.

"Sorry I'm late" Gus called out.

"Hey, no worries, Gus" Shawn said. "Let's get this interrogation started-"

"Actually" Juliet said. "I'm going to talk to Nathan Hayworth. See if he has any more information." Juliet didn't even wait to listen to what anyone else had to say. She walked off, refusing to look at Shawn anymore.

"Alright" Shawn said, feeling glum. "I guess it's just me, you and Lassie-face over h-"

"I would rather shower with a bear" Lassiter said.

"Actually, Shawn" Gus said. "I need to talk to Lassie." Lassiter stared at Gus confused, but accepted it.

"What, so I'm interviewing him by myself?!" Shawn demanded. That's where I came in.

"No. That's where I come in" I said, approaching them.

"There, see" Lassiter said, a small smile going on his face. "it can be a family thing." Shawn glared at them but the groaned and started limping towards the interrogation room.

"Shawn!" I called out. I chased after him and finally caught up. "We need to talk about yesterday."

"No, we don't. Nothing even happened. Let's just interview this stupid suspect and then leave it at that."

"Shawn-"

"Ssshhhhh!" Shawn yelled, walking into the interrogation room. "Be quiet in the interrogation room…" Shawn closed the door behind him. What the hell is going on?!

I moved to the room and watched Shawn through the one way mirror.

"Hi, Adam" Shawn said far too cheerfully. That's it. Once this whole nightmare is over, I'm teaching him how to properly interrogate someone.

Shawn took a seat in front of Clovers, who just stared at him. It wasn't a glare. More an acceptance of the facts.

"So what's going to happen now?" Clovers asked.

"Not sure…" Clovers nodded. "'Cause, I mean, unless I prove your innocent soon, they're just going to close the case…" Clovers' head snapped up.

"Prove I'm… innocent?"

"Yep!" Shawn said. "You didn't kill Jackson. And there is a very easy way to prove it."

"Well, whatever it is, I'll do it! I swear, I didn't-"

"You don't need to convince me."

"Well, then… what do I-"

"I need to find out who the real killer is. But to do that, I need evidence. So, I need you to be completely honest with me. I don't want a single lie to come out of your mouth, got it?"

"I always have told the truth."

"Oh really? Well, then, why did you never tell us you were at Jackson's house minutes before his murder?" Clovers stared at Shawn in shock. Shawn just tapped his temple. "Psychic" Shawn said, reminding Clovers of the impossible.

"Right…" Clovers said. There was a short pause before he finally sighed and started speaking again. "My lawyer. He told me not to mention when I was at the apartment. He said that my timings and the time of Jackson's death were too close together to clear my name. He said it would only make it worst. So I simply didn't tell you." Shawn stared him down. "Well, you already had so much against me. I had little hope. So, I figured, if this little thing could help me… well… I needed all the help I could get."

"What time did you leave his house?"

"2:03 pm" Shawn stared at him confused and sceptical. Such a specific time… "I had a bus to catch, so as soon as I left his building I checked my phone to see if I would make it or not." There was a short pause. "I did… in case you were wondering…"

"Which bus? What time did it leave?"

"Bus number 45A. it left at 2:10."

"So, if we were to ring up and find out who drove bus number 45A on the 16th of November at 2:10 and ask them if you were on the bus…"

"They would confirm it. I was the only person who got on at Jackson's stop."

"Did you notice anything weird when you were inside Jackson's house?" Shawn asked. Clovers shrugged.

"Jackson was an odd character. So nothing out of the usual in terms of Jackson. Oh, wait… there is one thing. Jackson put a lot more security up in his apartment. I mean, he was always a fairly paranoid guy but… lately, he was just buying more locks, setting up more passwords on whatever electrical equipment he had and making sure everything was secure." Shawn stood up and started making his way towards the door.

"Thanks, Adam. I'll do my best for you." Shawn then walked out of the door. He didn't even come to check how I was doing. He just started making his way towards the exit. I had to chase after Shawn to find out even the smallest detail.

"What was the whole question on time?" I asked him.

"Jackson's estimated time of death was 2:10. Plus or minus five minutes. If Jackson was on that 45A bus, there is no way he could have killed Jackson. "

"Fair enough. And why do you believe that Clovers isn't our guy?"

"Because Gus and I were shot at. if we weren't on the right track, they wouldn't try to scare us away with gunshots and chases, now would they?"

"Shawn, I really wish you would take all of this more seriously" Shawn suddenly looked distracted. "I mean, you could have died when you were at Jackson's house. People were shooting at you, you still can't walk straight. And Shawn, what the hell was up with that painting questionnaire yesterday? I mean, 1. You freaked me out. A lot. 2. It's my damn house. I'll hang what I-"

"Dad, close your eyes." Oh, God. Please don't let this be another strange and confusing outburst. I just had one yesterday. That's enough for a lifetime.

"What?"

"Just do it." I don't know why I listen to him sometimes. But, fine. He's under a lot of pressure.

"How many hats are in the room?" Shawn asked. Is this some kind of joke? Is he trying to get back at me or something?

"Shawn-"

"Dad, please, just answer the damn question."

"Seven."

"Seven?"

"Yes. You got three officer's hat, two beanies worn by those two delinquents. Carlton has that baseball cap you put on his desk two weeks ago that he still hasn't noticed and the last hat is a confiscated hat that the chief has in her office." I opened my eyes again and stared at Shawn. "Now what was the point of that?"

"No reason" Shawn said. He patted me on the shoulder. "I gotta go now, dad. Catch ya later." Shawn then walked towards the exit.

"Shawn, wait" I need a better explanation than that. But before I could do anything, Shawn hopped on his motorbike and rode home.

I looked back into the station and finally, I saw it. What Shawn was so worried about. On Juliet's desk was a white and red baseball hat. I remember that hat. I gave it to Shawn when he was young and he gave it to Juliet when he took her to a baseball game. And now, It was an eighth hat. One that neither of has noticed when we first walked in. No, that's not right. Of course we would have noticed it. It's in plain sight and we noticed every other hat that there was in this station.

Then it hit me.

In the time that we went to question Clovers, someone came in to the station undetected and placed this hat on Juliet's desk.


	11. Picklocking Catastrophe

**I wanted to upload this yesterday but I got home late and couldn't finish it in time. :( Sorry about that. It literally got to the point that I was falling asleep on my computer, trying to finish the update. But, it's here now.**

**I only just realized how many reviews I get and how little of them I actually reply back to. So, thank you all for being such wonderful reviewers! Special thanks to PsychLoverShules2 who also was a wonderful reviewer to my other Psych FanFic and also special thanks to Fantomfair and EvE79 for being wonderful reviewers to this FanFic. Always can depend on these three for a review. **

**Also, Psych101, ever since your comment on my spelling and grammar, I've found myself thinking of you when I write. Things like "I really hope she likes it! Oh, I hope I don't have that many mistakes this time. LOVE ME!" So thanks for that!**

**Of course, every reviewer means a lot to me. It would just take far too long to list all of you and give you your own message of thanks and how you have bettered me as a writer. I'll try to respond to all your reviews from now on. Even if it's just a thank you! Because, really, thank you! All of you! I love all you and your reviews to bits!**

**So please Review!**

* * *

Present Day

Carlton Lassiter POV

* * *

O'Hara and I had been on this case for such a long time now. It was bad enough when we had a whole week of the case, now we gotta get right back to it. It sucks.

If Shawn was taking the last case hard…. Then he was taking this case horribly. I mean, I see him work hard… once in a while. Only when it really mattered. Like, with a serial killer. I originally was surprised to see him work so hard on this particular case. But, then again, that little bastard is always full of surprises. I should learn to just not care about him anymore. And yet…

Adam Clover was finally being brought into the station. And now it's awkward. The man that we fought so hard for, the man that we proved with countless evidence was the bad guy… would have to go back to the interrogation room. Now we have to tell him and his lawyer that we could have made a mistake. That he could be innocent. And then he'll have that look in his eyes. The one that they always have. The look of "I told you so." I hate that look.

To my surprise, O'Hara was not calling Spencer. Instead, she was pulling apart her gun the reassembling it. All while being timed. I walked to her desk, confused.

"O'Hara" I called out at her.

"In a second…" she said, putting the final touches on her gun. I slammed my fist down on her desk.

"O'Hara!"

"What?!" Well… she's in a bad mood.

"Clovers is here" I said.

"and?"

"Well… I just thought you would like to call Shawn. Tell him he can come in and interrogate him."

"Can't you do that? I'm kind of busy at the moment." With what? Her gun? _That's _what's making her so busy?

"Yeah, I can see that" I said sarcastically. O'Hara rolled her eyes at me and continued to work with her gun. I guess… that means I'm calling the two idiots.

I dialled the number to Spencer's stupid agency and waited. Two rings later, someone picked up the phone in a very panicked tone.

'Hello? Jules?' Spencer said on the other line.

"What? No. it's Detective Lassiter-"

'Lassie-kins! Why didn't you say so?! What's up?'

"Clovers is in. I thought you two idiots would like to come down and question him."

'Oh, that's awfully kind of you to call in and tell us. Gus isn't here right now, but I'll pass on the message. I know you're just dying to see us.'

"Don't hurry over-"

'Don't worry your pretty little face, Lassie, I'll be there soon. And then everything will be put back into order-"

"Spencer, don't get carried away. I don't have the time-" he hung up on me. He didn't even try to come up with a comeback or anything. He just… hung up on me. That's odd. That's very odd.

* * *

At 1:03, Shawn arrived alone. As soon as he walked in, he made eye contact with O'Hara and walked towards her, completely skipping past me.

"Hey" Spencer said to her.

"Hello, Shawn" O'Hara said to him. She sounded… pissed… are they going to break up? Is this sick, twisted night mare finally coming to an end?

"Where were you the other night? I thought we had plans at 8…"

"No we didn't."

"But, you said-"

"I said I was swamped with work and wouldn't be able come. Don't you ever listen?" I could testify that what O'Hara was saying was completely not true. I heard her on the phone confirm their meeting. I don't know what's going on between the two, but it's working. They're falling apart.

Spencer looked at O'Hara very confused.

"Have I said… or done something wrong?" Spencer asked.

"No. Nothing. Why would you think otherwise?"

"Well, then why are you-"

"Sorry I'm late" Gus called out as he suddenly entered the station.

"Hey, no worries, Gus" Spencer said, trying to build himself back up after his crash and burn. "Let's get this interrogation started-"

"Actually" O'Hara said. "I'm going to talk to Nathan Hayworth. See if he has any more information." She then walked off in the opposite direction of Clovers and made her way to Hayworth. Spencer stared after her, very, very confused.

"Alright" Shawn said, feeling glum. "I guess it's just me, you and Lassie-face over h-"

"I would rather shower with a bear" I said quickly.

"Actually, Shawn" Gus said. "I need to talk to Lassie." He needs to talk to me? About what? What could he possible need to talk to me about?

"What, so I'm interviewing him by myself?!" Spencer demanded.

"No. That's where I come in" Bigger Spencer said, approaching them.

"There, see" I said quickly, wanting to get rid of the Spencers.. "it can be a family thing." Shawn glared at me, groaned and started limping towards the interrogation room. Bigger Spencer followed after them, calling after his son.

I started moving towards my desk. Finally, some quiet time to just do some work. I won't have to deal with any idiots. Guster then ruined this train of thought as he appeared in front of my desk, staring at me with those annoying eyes that was starting to look more and more like Spencer.

"Well, what do you want, Guster?" I asked.

"I need to talk to you…" Guster said.

"Huh… that wasn't just an excuse to get away from Spencer?" Guster looked taken back. I'll take that as a no.

"Look, something's up with Shawn. And he won't tell me anything. I need your help." Did one of the two idiots just ask me for help? Did this day finally come?

"And why should I help you?" That triggered something I had never seen in Guster before.

"Because, Lassie!" he yelled. "We were shot at! Shawn is now limping! He's been acting strange, keeping letters from me! He's hiding things from his past and there's a look on his face I haven't seen since 1999! And most of all, Lassie, I know that no matter how much you try to hide it or how much you say you don't, I _know_ you care for Shawn!"

I just stared at him in shock. A couple other people turned their heads, but it just took a simple glare from me to make them look away again. It is true, though. Spencer has been acting very… odd… lately. And apparently, there is a lot of things happening between Guster and Spencer that could have a lot to do with the case.

"Fine, fine" I said at last. "What stupid scheme did you get yourselves into to cause someone to shoot you two? And why is Spencer limping?"

"Shawn was working on the case, Lassie. And he got close. That's why people shot at us."

"Apparently not close enough. Or else you would have caught the guy."

"We're a lot closer than you are! We at least know who did it!" What?! I've been standing here listening to this moron ramble aimlessly and _now_ he tells me?!

"Guster! Who is it?!"

"The Hour Killer!" oh.

"It's just a theory. We're just double checking to make sure we don't put the wrong guy in jail."

"No, but Shawn was… psychically… drawn to Jackson's apartment and found proof that someone else was there on the night of his murder."

"Let me get this straight… you two went into a restricted crime scene, manipulated evidence and possibly ruined the whole case?"

Guster stared at me in silence as he understood that what they did was wrong. This is why I prefer him to Spencer. At least he knows when to draw the line, when to apologise and when he's done something wrong.

"Look, we found evidence, alright? And this isn't even about that. Shawn right now is interrogating Clovers to find more concrete evidence. What I need your help with is Shawn. I'm worried about him and I've already tried asking everyone for help. Mr Spencer didn't work. That just ended in Shawn getting into a fit and storming off after screaming something about a painting. Juliet has been dodging my calls and won't talk to Shawn. That's just making things worst. You're my last hope."

"Alright. Tell me about these letter you said Shawn was getting." He is definitely not off the hook yet. I will talk to both Guster and Spencer about obstruction of justice and sneaking into crime scenes. They will suffer the consequences for this irresponsible idea, believe me.

"Well, I don't know very much about it. He's been hiding all of them, locking them away. He's never done that before. Ever."

"What happened in '99?"

"It's… complicated. And I don't even know the whole story." I just raised my eyebrows at him. After high school, he left. He went… everywhere. I hadn't seen him in years and then one day in 1999, he just pops up out of the blue at my house, looking like… death. It took him months to get back on his feet again."

Was Spencer capable of that? Looking like death? I mean, I've seen him when he was shot. That was the worst I've seen him at, and he was himself enough to crack jokes at Guster. After that, I never thought he was able to feel anything other than amusement.

"Where does he keep those letters?" I asked.

"In the Psych office. But it's locked up, Lassie." I picked up my keys to my glorious Ford Fusion.

"Yes. and I'm very good at picking locks."

* * *

I followed Guster into the Psych office. I was… well, shocked. There was such a big mess. But as I approached it more, I realised it was all Spencer's doing. And it was all revolved around this case. I hate to admit it, but he really was working hard. Maybe I shouldn't be so hard on him… just this once.

"Don't touch anything" Guster said. "Shawn wouldn't want us messing things up."

"Yes, because it's not all messed up right now" I accidently knocked over a couple files but then looked around not noticing a difference from before. "Nono, this is all perfectly organised." Dammit! A criticism. I had _just_ said I was going to be easy on him.

"He calls it his organised mess" Guster said. Because that makes sense. Dammit! Another criticism! Guster sighed and pointed to his desk.

"It's the second drawer. I didn't even know it had a lock…" I crouched down next to his desk and saw the key hole. I pulled out one of the paperclips from Spencer's desk and started working on the lock.

"It's odd…" Guster said, thinking out loud. "Shawn always told me everything. I mean, true… he never did tell me what happened in '96. But I never really asked. It used to make him feel so uncomfortable… I didn't like being the cause for that. I like to think that if I did ask him, he would tell me the truth. Now… I'm not so sure he would. I'm not so sure what else he's been hiding from me either."

"I'm sure you're just analysing this too much" I said, feeling awkward giving Guster advice on Spencer.

"I thought that too, at first. But then he started hiding letters, yelling at his dad for buying a new painting. I mean, just this morning he yelled at me for buying a new air freshener for my car."

"That is odd." I wasn't really listening anymore. I was just focusing on the lock, which was proving impossible to pick. I stood up in defeat. "Can't do it." I said. Guster looked at me as if all hope in the world was lost. "I tried. I really did. But it's not budging. Is there any letters that maybe he missed out? I mean, in this mess, I wouldn't be surprised if there were one or two just lying about."

"Believe me, there isn't. It may look like a mess to you, but to Shawn this makes perfect sense. He knows where everything is."

I spun around on the spot, looking for any stray piece of paper that could resemble a letter. And there it was, on the floor right next to the door. A folded up piece of paper with Spencer's name written on top.

"What about that one?" I asked, pointing at the paper by the door. Guster stared at the paper before running to it and quickly snatching it up in his hands.

"I don't believe it" he said.

Wish shaking hands, he started to open the letter. Just as he was about to see what was in it, the front door opened up wide and Spencer darted inside the Psych office. He almost skipped past Guster, but as soon as he saw me, he turned to find Guster.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked me. Then he turned back to Guster, snatching the letter he had in his hands. "What the hell are you doing with this?!" he demanded.

"Shawn, I-"

"No! I told you to drop it, didn't I?! I told you to just forget about it!"

"Well, guess what? I'm not going to! I deserve to know what happened to you in 1996. I deserve to know why it took you seven months to get back on your feet in 1999. I am your _friend_ Shawn! I deserve to know what the hell happened to you!"

"No, you don't. It's my past, my business and my choice! If I wanted you to know, you would-" Shawn looked right next to his desk where the files I knocked over were. He limped towards his desk and inspected the key hole I had tried to pick. "Are you serious?!" Shawn yelled.

"Spencer, that was me-" I tried to say.

"No! Shut up! I don't want to hear it from you!" Did… did he just snap at me? At me? Head Detective of the Santa Barbara Police Department?

Spencer took in a deep breath, realising what he had just done. He tried to calm himself down and then, with eyes shut tight pointed to the door.

"Out" he spat through his teeth. Guster and I exchanged a look. "I SAID OUT!" he yelled and with that, Guster and I quickly ran out the doors.

From the outside, I looked into the window. I saw Spencer open up the letter and stare at it in a fear I had never seen on his face before. I then saw him pull out a key from his pocket, unlock the drawer an pull out all the contents. The amount of letter there were… shocked me. I was too far away to count how many, but I'd say almost ten.

"When did he start getting those letter again?" I asked Guster.

"Three days ago…" he said.

"That's a lot of letters for only three days…"

"Where to now?" he asked. Oh, so now we're a team?

"Let's see if O'Hara got anything from Jackson."

* * *

uster and I walked into the station. It was a silent car ride. I could tell Guster was worried about Shawn. And, if I'm honest… I am too. I had never seen him so scared. Whatever was enclosed in that letter but have been something truly awful to strike up that fear in Spencer.

When we got to the bigger Spencer, we asked about psychic Spencer. He told us about how he was rambling on about there being an extra hat in the room before storming off and getting on his bike. This just gets more and more odd.

Finally, O'Hara came out of the interrogation room. She looked pissed. And I mean, really pissed. Whatever happened, she was not having any of it. I tried to step in her way and talk to her. She nearly hit me, but managed to control herself.

"I'm not in the mood, Carlton" she hissed at me. I put my hands up in defense.

"Woah, woah, woah. Take it easy, O'Hara. Tell me what happened."

"Nothing happened. Why would you think something happened?" I looked around at Spencer and Guster for support on this. No words were exchanged, just a simple nod of the head.

"You're joking, right?" I asked. She then shot me a glare that could kill. "Apparently not."

"Have you seen Shawn?" she asked at last.

"Yeah, but listen. I wouldn't go right now. He's not in the best of states and you are-" she shot that look again. "-Clearly in a very good place right now" I said with sarcasm.

"Carlton, if you don't tell me where my boyfriend is, I will snap your wrist. Got it?"

"He's at the Psych office" Guster said. "He's really not in a good mood though. If you could help, that'd be great. "

"Thank you, Gus" O'Hara then started walking away, making sure to smash her shoulder into mine. Spencer and I stared at Guster in shock.

"What?" he asked.

"You just threw my son into the lion pit" Spencer said.


	12. The Letter

**Managed to get my update in on time! Quite easily on time as well! So happy! I'll try to update everyday. At the same time, I don't want to. Simply because that means that it will be over sooner. And I just loved writing this so much! I don't want it to end! (Not that it's close to ending. I'd say we're like... a third of the way through... maybe further).**

**Thanks all for the lovely quick reviews! **

**This is officially the most reviewed FanFic I've written! So thanks for that! It's also the longest chapter wise, second longest word wise (so far). Thanks so much for all your reviews, guys! Thanks so much for reading this and putting up with my bad grammar and spelling and occasional mistakes! **

**This chapter is really more of an update on Shules. And then a big twist and cliffy at the end. It really raises more questions than it answers... Enjoy! (cue evil laugh... MWAHAHAHA)**

**Reviews are very much appreciated! Good, bad, amazing, terrible… love them all!**

* * *

Present Day

Juliet O'Hara Point of View

* * *

Adam Clovers was finally being brought into our station. What was I doing? Taking apart my gun. Then putting it back together again. Why? Because of Shawn!

I don't know why, but ever since I learned that he has a criminal record… I just… I can't. Don't get me wrong. It's not that I think it's once a criminal, always a criminal. I'm positive that he's a very different person now than he was when he did… whatever he did. It's more the fact that I've known him for six years and dated him for a year. And yet, I haven't heard a single thing about this. He's managed to hide this so easily, keep it a secret. Maybe even lie about it on occasion.

So… what else could he be keeping from me?

What lie could he be hiding? What secrets could he be hiding?

"O'Hara" I heard Carlton call out.

"In a second…" I said, not even looking up to meet his eyes. He then slammed his fist down on to my desk.

"O'Hara!"

"What?!"

"Clovers is here" Carlton said, suddenly holding back his anger.

"and?"

"Well… I just thought you would like to call Shawn. Tell him he can come in and interrogate him."

"Can't you do that? I'm kind of busy at the moment."

"Yeah, I can see that" he said, his voice full of sarcasm. I rolled her eyes at him and continued to work on my gun. Carlton shook his head at me, pulled out his phone and called Shawn.

Great. Now I have to think of what to say to him.

* * *

Shawn arrived alone at around 1. That only made things so much more difficult. At least with Gus I could say something that would lead the two of them into an argument. Where is Gus when I need him?

Spencer zeroed onto me and made his way over to me. Great.

"Hey" he said to me.

"Hello, Shawn" I said, trying to keep my tone calm. Judging from Carlton's face, I did not do a very good job of that…

"Where were you the other night? I thought we had plans at 8…"

"No we didn't."

"But, you said-"

"I said I was swamped with work and wouldn't be able come" I quickly lied. "Don't you ever listen?" Carlton looked at me in shock and Shawn stared at me confused. Clearly, no one was buying my lie. It was worth a shot.

"Have I said… or done something wrong?" Shawn asked.

"No. Nothing" That's just the problem… "Why would you think otherwise?"

"Well, then why are you-"

"Sorry I'm late" Gus called out, becoming my new saviour.

"Hey, no worries, Gus" Shawn said. He tried to put a smile back on his face but… it didn't quite work. "Let's get this interrogation started-"

"Actually" I interrupted him. There is no way I'm going to spend another second with them. I just can't keep this up. "I'm going to talk to Nathan Hayworth. See if he has any more information." I then walked away from them all towards Nathan's interrogation room. He was the one who told me about his criminal record… maybe he could tell me more.

I closed the door gently behind me. Nathan looked up and I found myself shooting him a smile. Suddenly… I'm nervous. What if I find out something I don't want to? What if Shawn did something… horrible?

"What can I do for you, Detective?" he shot me a flirty smile and immediately my smile vanished.

"Don't start" I said and walked up to him. He shrugged, but continued to smile at me that way. The way that reminded me far too much of Shawn… "Do I have to remind you that I carry a gun at all times?" No reaction… what does it take?

"Come on, doll face-"

"I'm dating Shawn" I said quickly. Nathan just laughed.

"and how's that working out for you? What, has it been like two dates? Three? Then you never heard from him again?"

"Actually, it's been a year. Not that it's any of your business." Nathan's eyes popped wide open.

"No way! Shawn held a girlfriend for more than a couple weeks?!"

"Why is that so hard to believe?"

"Well, back when I knew him, he was just a lady's man. Girls would go on dates twice with him and then he'd never call them back." Yep. Shawn is definitely a different person now than he was. That whole criminal record is just something from his past that he's ashamed of. Maybe… I should talk to Shawn…

"Well, you actually helped me out, Nathan. Thank you." I started walking towards the door, not feeling comfortable being with Nathan.

"No problem?" Nathans responded, confused. "By the way" he called out just as I was walking out the door. I groaned and walked back in.

"Yes?"

"You're in on it, right?" My new smile faded away and I stared at him in wonder.

"In on what?"

"You know… the whole, psychic thing?"

My heart stopped.

He wouldn't. He couldn't. He didn't. No. Nonononono. Please, God tell me he didn't…

"Oh God… You weren't in on, were you?"

I hadn't noticed what I was doing, but suddenly I found myself leaning on the table in front of Nathan.

"No" I managed to breath. I looked up to see Nathan's face and saw him smiling. Why was he smiling? Why was he smiling?! "Wipe that grin off your face!" I found myself yelling.

"Sorry. Can't help it. I thought Shawn had changed, but he's still same ol' Shawn!"

No. No he's not. He would never be.

"Making up a huge and improbable lie just to get the girl."

He is.

I stormed out the room and slammed the door behind me. I stormed towards the exit of the station. As I was walking out, I saw Carlton walking towards me, Gus and Henry behind him. I tried to step out of his way but he made it very clear that he intended to keep me from leaving the station. I was _this_ close to just punching him in the face. I had to remember where I was and who was in front of me to stop myself.

"I'm not in the mood, Carlton" I said to him, trying to keep my voice calm. Carlton put his hands up in defence, clearly showing that my efforts failed.

"Woah, woah, woah. Take it easy, O'Hara. Tell me what happened" Carlton happened.

"Nothing happened. Why would you think something happened?" I lied. It clearly was not fooling anybody.

"You're joking, right?" he asked. I glared at Carlton. "Apparently not."

"Have you seen Shawn?" I asked finally realising what it was I wanted to do. If I was going to solve anything, I would have to talk to him.

"Yeah, but listen. I wouldn't go right now. He's not in the best of states and you are clearly in a very good place right now." He said that last bit in a sarcasm that I did not appreciate.

"Carlton, if you don't tell me where my boyfriend is, I will snap your wrist. Got it?"

"He's at the Psych office" Gus said at last. "He's really not in a good mood though. If you could help, that'd be great. "

"Thank you, Gus" I said and then started walking towards the exit, making sure to smash my shoulder into Carlton's before I did.

I sat down in my car and looked up into the mirror. That's when I finally realised that I was crying. I was lied to and I felt cheated and now I'm crying. I have to talk to Shawn.

* * *

I arrived at the Psych office. I tried to look into the windows to get an idea of what to expect, but was disappointed to see the blinds were closed. I walked up to the door and pushed it open. I walked in to see nothing but a mess. Paper stacks everywhere, files falling off desks. Then Shawn suddenly appeared in front of me, carrying a bag. I stared at him.

"Are you going somewhere?" I asked. Shawn jumped and turned to face me. He actually jumped… I surprised him. Since when was Shawn ever surprised? At anything?

"Jules!"

"Bag" I said, staring at his hand.

"I'm just clearing up" Shawn assured me. I just nodded. This stupid bag isn't what I came here to talk about anyways. I came to talk about him and his secrets.

"We need to talk, Shawn." Shawn died a bit. I could see it in his eyes. He couldn't be that man Nathan was talking about.

"What about?"

"About you lying to me. "Shawn just stared at me blankly. "You have a criminal record?" I asked. The words came out of my mouth before I could even think of them.

"You never asked-"

"I'm a _detective_, Shawn! Don't you think that's something I would want to know?!"

"I thought you did-"

"Don't you _dare_ lie to me! You know perfectly well I didn't!"

"I just borrowed a car. My dad was the one who arrested me. I just didn't want you to know, Jules. Because, like you said, you're a detective. You want guys with clean records."

"Fine."

"I'm forgiven?"

"Not even close." Shawn stared at me. "Tell me Shawn. Are you psychic?" Shawn opened his mouth to answer. He immediately shut his mouth, confirming my worst fears.

I could feel the anger build up inside me. I could feel the betrayal. I could feel my heart sink as I realised the sad truth of Shawn. Before I could stop it, I could feel the tears roll down my cheeks and all I could do was stare at him as I broke down.

"Jules. I had to. It was just an excuse I made because they were going to put me in jail. Then, I just dug myself in a hole and… lying was the only way to avoid going into jail." I didn't say anything. I just continued to stare as more tears fell. "Jules…" he reached his hands towards me.

"No!" I found myself screaming at him. "Don't you touch me, Shawn!"

"Jules-"

"No! You have been lying to me for six years straight. And we've been dating for one of those years. You know how much I appreciate honesty, you know that I would have helped you. You should have told me, Shawn! You've been keeping secrets from me! How can I trust anything you say anymore? How can I trust you?"

"Because it's me, Jules. You know me."

"How can I be sure of that anymore, Shawn? Everything that you've told me… how do I know any of that is true?"

"Trust me, Jules-"

"Trust you?!" Really?!" Shawn just stared at me. Nothing more to say. Not even an apology. "Well that's all I came to say" I said. "So unless you have something to tell me… any confessions, any more lies… anything… now would be the time to tell me." He opened his mouth to speak, but then shut it quickly, ducking his head down. Still no apology.

"Fine" I spit through my teeth and walked out the front door. He's not even trying anymore. He just doesn't… care… anymore.

I sat in my car and drove to the station.

* * *

I arrived at the station and stayed in my car for ten minutes. I regret to say that I spent that whole time… weeping. This is why I shouldn't mix relationships with work. I told myself a million times that I wouldn't. and look at me now. Making the same mistakes as I did once upon a time.

When I finally entered the station, I was greeted by Carlton. He patted me on the back. I don't think I did a very good job trying to hid the fact that I was just crying for ten minutes. Gus approached me with worried eyes. I just shook my head at him and walked to my desk.

"Jules… what happened?" Gus asked me. I looked around. Carlton was just out of hearing range.

"I know that Shawn was lying about being psychic" I said and then glared at him. He was in on it. Gus kept it a secret from me as well. Gus stared at me in shock.

"Oh… I'm sorry, Jules. You have to understand, Jules, we had to keep the charade going. They would put us in jail otherwise." I nodded. Of course I understood. I just… can't believe Shawn.

"What are you two yapping about?" Carlton asked.

"Nothing" I said quickly. Gus stared at me in shock. Did he really expect me to tell him? Carlton would lock him away in a heartbeat. Of course I'm mad at Shawn, but that doesn't mean that I want him gone!

"Oh, hi there detective!" Nathan called out as he approached my desk. Carlton and I exchanged an odd look.

"What the hell are you doing here? Get back in the room! You're not safe here!" Carlton yelled.

"I'm booooored!" Nathan complained. "Plus, I thought I'd just give you all a heads up that you won't be hearing from Shawn for a very long time." Nathan then started to walk back to the interrogation room. I jumped up and grabbed his shoulder, spinning him around on the spot. Carlton's hand twitched to his gun, his natural reaction to a threat like that. Gus… well he just stared in shock.

"What the hell are you talking about?" I demanded.

"What? Oh, God, no! That sounded wrong! I didn't do anything! Please, you can check tapes or whatever. I was in the room the whole time. I'm just saying, back when I knew Shawn… it only took one confrontation to cause him to pack up his bags and leave town."

"Well, Shawn is a little different to what you remember…"

"Really? Okay, let me guess. His room is a complete mess so _you_ can't tell when something goes missing. For all you know, he could add or take away something from the pile. You wouldn't notice…" Gus and Carlton exchanged glances. Nathan had a huge smile on his face. Why? Why is he so against Shawn? He carried on. "Then, one of you caught him with a bag. When you asked what he was doing, he said he was organising the mess. You believe him because, well, it's a mess. And it clearly needs to be organised."

Gus and Carlton stared at me.

"Oh, God" I whispered. Gus, Carlton, Henry and I all ran out of the station and into our cars.

* * *

When we arrived at the Psych office, all our hearts sank as we noticed Shawn's motorbike was gone. We all burst into the office to see that the Psych office was so tidy. Hard to believe that just under half an hour ago it was such a mess. On top of Shawn's desk was a single note.

Carlton walked up to his desk, being the only one of us who had the courage to approach the note. Carlton read over the note quickly before looking up at all of us.

"Shawn's gone."


	13. Safe

**Hello my lovelys! This chapter has a lot of answers, so I hope you'll be happy with them. It does end in a cliffy though. Do you expect anything less from me?**

**Reviews are very much loved. Always appreciated, very much loved! So please do review! Let me know what you think, even if it's just simply grammar corrections. **

**Please and thank you!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Present Day

Burton Guster POV

* * *

When we arrived at the Psych office, my heart stopped as i noticed Shawn's motorbike was gone. The four of us burst into the office to see that the it was so tidy. Hard to believe that just under half an hour ago it was such a mess. On top of Shawn's desk was a single note.

Lassie walked up to his desk, being the only one of us who had the courage to approach the note. He read over the note quickly before looking up at all of us.

"Shawn's gone."

No. Not again. I will this again. I had enough worry for a life time. I worried when Shawn first left in 1995. I worried when I didn't hear from in in 1996. And I was scared out of my mind in 1999, seeing Shawn appear at my house looking like death. I've had enough of that and I sure as hell am not going through it again.

But he's my friend. Of course I would.

"You… you sure?" Juliet asked. Nobody snapped at her, though we all wanted to. How could he be wrong? Of course Shawn was gone.

Carlton sighed and handed her the note. Henry walked over behind Juliet to read it. I can't even begin to describe how Mr Spencer looked. He looked upset, obviously. Who wouldn't be in a situation like this? But he also looked… well, mad. I suppose I can understand that. But the most weird thing… he didn't look surprised. Not even in the slightest. I mean, I know Shawn had done this before, but I thought he changed. I though he learned how to face confrontation.

I looked around and realised that I was the only one who thought this. I was the only one who expected better from Shawn. How can they all be so blind?

"You'd think he'd have better spelling by now…" was Mr Spencer's only comment on the note. Juliet's eyes started to water as she handed me the note.

"It's all my fault" she said. "I saw him with a bag. I should have asked him more questions rather than… yell at him." She sounded so disgusted in herself.

"It's not your fault, O'Hara" Lassie said. "We all knew he doesn't cope well under pressure."

I had enough of listening to this. I walked into the kitchen and let them continue their judgement. I turned to the note that Shawn left. The last time I got one of these mysterious notes from Shawn was in 1999. It terrified me and I had hoped to never have to deal with it ever again. Yet here I was again. Holding the note in my hand and reading it anxiously, nervously.

'Dear… Well whoever is reading this, I guess. Gus? Yeah. Gus. You're probably be the only one bothered to fully read this.

Anyways.

I just thougt that I had caused enough troubl lately. I tried solving the case… I really did. But I just can't find anything. I'm at a dead end and quite frankly, I don't see the harm in me leaving now. But, I do recomend one thing. Clovers is innocent. Ask my dad about the busses and then look into that. I never got the chance but I reelly, truthfully believe he's innocent. If he gets put in jail it'll be my fault, and I wouldn't be able to live with myself in that case. Just talk to my dadd. He'll explain it mor.

Anyways, don't worry about me. I'll get back to you in the sumer. Or something like that. Let you know how I'm doing.

So… I guess this is goodby. Again.

-Shawn'

I can see what they meant about the spelling mistakes. Surely he knew that 'dad' only has one 'd'. Wait a minute…

"Guster, what on Earth are you doing?" Lassie asked, staring at me.

"Gus, don't write on that!" Juliet called out, walking over to me.

"Look at it" I said, showing them the note. I had circled all the spelling mistakes. Surely now they must see it!

"That's what we were talking about, Gus. So what? Shawn made some spelling mistakes" Juliet said. "What difference does that make?"

Do I have to spell it out for them?

"He wrote 'Thougt'. It's missing an 'H'. He wrote 'troubl' it's missing an 'E'. Recomend, missing an 'M'. Reelly, needs an 'A'. Dad has a double 'D'" I looked around, hoping they'd catch my drift. Mr Spencer and Lassie continued to stare at the note, still processing the information. Then Juliet gasped.

"He made me…" she whispered. Lassie and Mr Spencer snatched the not out of my hand and noticed how all the spelling mistakes made up that exact sentence.

"He was leaving clues…" Mr Spencer said.

"But… _who_ made him?!" Lassie yelled in annoyance. He then walked over to Shawn's desk and tried the locked drawer again. To my disappointment, it still wouldn't budge. Lassie then walked back into the kitchen and walked out carrying a hammer. I stared at him in complete shock. Since when did we keep hammers in the kitchen? And how did Lassie know it was there? Lassie smashed the hammer into the drawer.

"Carlton!" Juliet protested.

"Jules, it's okay" I said. But honestly, now I'm going to have to replace it. Lassie better offer some money to make up for the damage he's causing.

What am I thinking! Shawn! That's my worry now! Not some stupid money issue!

Finally, a big enough hole was made in the drawer. Lassie stuck his hand in and pulled out a file. That's odd… I thought he just tossed the notes in. He must have organised them before he left. Meaning… he wanted us to find them.

Lassie put the file on Shawn's now clean desk. He hesitated for about a second before opening it. It was just our case. All our progress on the case. Our investigation into Adam Clovers, our experience in Jackson's apartment that lead to the shootings and even the whole bus system Shawn was talking about in the letter.

Just as we were about to close the file, a stack of letters tied together came out. Lassie and I exchanged a look. The familiar handwriting of Shawn's name was on each of the letters. These were the letters Shawn spent so long hiding. And now he was practically handing it to us. It took almost every ounce of will power to not rip open the letters and find out what Shawn's been hiding.

"What are these?" Mr Spencer asked. Juliet just stared down at the letters.

"Letters. Shawn's been hiding them from me for days. I have no idea what they say…" I said.

Mr Spencer reached for the letters and opened the first one. I recognised the cover almost immediately. It was the first letter Shawn got. He had organised the letters in the order he received them in. His eyes opened in shock and then he turned it to us.

The letter read: 'Psychic. Get off the case'. The next one had a bit of blood on it. That's the one he got after our confrontation at Jackson's apartment. It said basically the same thing. Get off the case.

We picked up the next three were… disturbing.

The first of the three was a picture of Mr Spencer's house. More specifically, the inside of his house. More specifically, Henry Spencer's room. With an unusual sun flower painting hung above the bed. The painting… that's the one Shawn was talking about. That's why he was so upset when he saw the actual painting hung up in his house. He wasn't upset at Mr Spencer. He was just so shocked. Whoever took the picture in the Spencer household took it recently.

The next picture was of Juliet's house. I could hear her gasp when she recognised her coffee table and couch. Tucked in the bookshelf in the background was the old baseball cap Shawn had given her.

The last picture was of my car. My Echo. My new air freshener included. And yet again, just like the case with Mr Spencer, Shawn was upset with _me_ this morning (dear God… was it only this morning?). He was just upset. Because… whoever took that photo of my car would have had to take it yesterday… that was when I bought the air freshener.

"This is getting creepy" I said. Juliet nodded in agreement.

There were two letters left. We opened the one on top and three photos came out. These photos sent shivers down my spine. It sent shivers down even Lassie's spine.

The first photo was of me. Me in my pharmaceutical salesman office, eating. Not the most unusual thing in the world. What was unusual was that it was taken from the hallway just outside my office. I work in a staff only section of the building.

The next photo was of Lassie. He was sleeping in his bed without a shirt on, gun still in his hand. We all sneaked a peak at Lassie, just to see how he was coping with it. He was just staring at the photo in complete shock. How had the Head Detective of the Santa Barbara Police Department been so oblivious to a man entering his house and snapping a picture of him?

The last photo from this letter was of Juliet. Her eyes opened wide and her jaw dropped as she stared in horror. I could feel my cheeks go red and couldn't help but look away. Neither could Lassie or Mr Spencer. The picture was of Juliet, naked in her shower. The awkwardness between the four of us became unbearable. We had officially seen her naked. I just saw my best friend's girlfriend naked.

"You look nice" I said, trying to ease the tension. Juliet just transferred her shocked expression towards me. Not the right thing to say. I handed her the photo. She could do with it what she wants. Mr Spencer picked up the last letter and began to open it. The last letter was the one Shawn got today. The one that I nearly opened this morning.

"I don't understand though" Lassie said. We gave him an odd look. "I mean, I get it. The killer was threatening Spencer with us. Showing that he would hurt us or whatever if he didn't stay away from the case. But, surely Shawn would have known that we were safe in the station. I mean, how could anyone get in and out of a police station without being notice? Let alone walk in and hurt an officer." Mr Spencer's head snapped up.

"He did think that" he whispered. "That's why he didn't stop. That's why he didn't leave. But today… oh my God…" he dropped the letter he had opened and picked up the photo of Juliet's house. He pointed to the hat in the background. "This hat! We saw it today, at the station. After we had questioned Clovers, Shawn noticed it on Juliet's desk."

"Meaning someone walked into the station without being noticed" Lassie said.

"He was showing Shawn that we weren't safe at the station" I finished.

"Oh my God" Juliet said. We turned to her and saw she was looking at the last letter. She flipped it and showed it to us. It was of Mr Spencer, standing in the room next to Clovers' interrogation room. You could see that through the one way mirror Shawn was talking to Adam Clovers. On the back of the photo, the killer wrote a message: 'Leave now. Never come back. Stay off the case.'

And with that last note, Shawn finally cracked. He left. To save us.

"The station isn't safe anymore" Mr Spencer said.

"Nathan!" I suddenly exclaimed. They all looked at me. "He's a witness! And he's alone in the interrogation rooms!" It took a second for anyone to react. Very quickly, Lassie threw all the letters and photos back into the file and we all ran to our cars, racing towards the station.


	14. A Theory Confirmed

**Hello Lovelys! Update here and waiting for you to read it. So please do! And once you're done, tell me what you think! Review it! Good, bad, corrections. Everything! I want all types of reviews and appreciate them all. **

**A bit of swearing in here. I do apologise. Just be… ready… not much else I can do about it. Well, I suppose I could not put it in… but nah. **

**A very big question get answered in this chapter. I think you'll be quite happy with it. **

* * *

Present Day

Juliet O'Hara POV

* * *

Shawn… Oh Shawn…

I hate myself right now. Why did I yell at him? I know he lied. It makes sense why he lied. He was avoiding going to prison. Gus explained everything in more detail on the car ride to the station. And… it made sense. If I only gave Shawn the chance to explain. Then I could have helped him. Then maybe he wouldn't be… wherever the hell he is.

It's all my fault. I shouldn't have been so mad at him. I shouldn't have been so hard on him. What was I thinking?

The letters, the photos… the threats. How could Shawn have kept that from us all this time? It must have driven him crazy. He had to worry not only about himself, but also about us. Then on top of that he had Nathan to deal with.

God. The more I think about Shawn, the more I hate myself. What the hell was I thinking?!

"Jules!" Gus yelled, interrupting my train of thought. I suddenly focused on the site in front of me and only just managed to swerve out of the way of oncoming traffic. I stared at the road ahead of me intently now. Didn't want any more slip ups. "Maybe I should drive."

"No" I said. True, it was Gus's car and I did nearly crash but… I am driving. I don't need people to take care of me and watch my every move. "I am more than capable of driving a couple miles."

"What the hell were you thinking about, anyways?" Gus asked. I just shook my head. Gus sighed. "Don't keep thinking about Shawn. I'm sure he's fine. Well, as fine as he normally is. What we need to focus on now is finding who sent Shawn the letters and bring him to justice."

I know he's right. He's obviously right. And yet, all I can do is continuously think of Shawn. Where is he? Is he okay? Hurt?

I suddenly was very aware of the photo of me hidden away in my pocket. The photo of me naked. Who the hell does that? How did I not notice them?

We arrived at the station and I slammed on the brakes, nearly crashing into Carlton's car. I should really focus more on the road ahead of me. I quickly got out of my car to see Carlton staring at me in horror.

"See, this is why you're never allowed to drive my car!" he yelled at me.

"Shut up, Carlton" I found myself yelling at him. I then ran inside the station. Partly because I didn't want to have to deal with Carlton and partly because… as much as I hate his guts, Nathan Hayworth is a victim in this. He's a witness. And he has to be protected.

I ran through the corridors, the three men running behind me. Every single pair of eyes in the station turned towards us. I didn't care. Neither did the other men. We had a witness to protect and absolutely no time to waste. Not even a little.

We all burst into Nathan's room to see him sitting in front of the table, feet put up and smiling his same old… _stupid_ smile. That stupid, stupid smile that makes me want to discharge my gun.

"Hello detectives" Nathan said, grinning. Carlton groaned in annoyance, already debating to just leave. Glad to know I wasn't the only person who hated his guts. "Let me guess…" Nathan put his feet down and put a finger forehead, acting like he really was putting a lot of thought into what he was going to say next. "Shawn wasn't there, was he?" that sickening smile. That stupid, stupid smile.

I then found myself walking towards him, arm pulled back ready to punch him in between the eyes. Carlton was suddenly behind me, holding me back. I let out a scream as he pulled me back. He started dragging me out of the room and I just continued to scream and shout.

"Fuck you, Nathan!" I screamed. I couldn't believe what was coming out of my mouth. It was coming out before I had even _considered_ screaming it. Carlton just continued to drag me away kicking and screaming. "You inconsiderate _bastard_!" I continued to yell at Nathan.

Stupid, stupid smile. Why won't he just stop smiling! Shawn was his friend. They seemed so happy when they finally found each other again, back a couple days ago when they were catching up. And now Nathan was actually _smiling_ at the fact that Shawn left?!

I could see in the distance, down the corridor, people were looking down. What? Have they never seen an angry woman before? Nathan stared at me in shock. Hell, even Henry was staring at me shocked. Gus however was showing a side to him I have never seen before. Even when Carlton found Shawn's note, Gus didn't react that much.

What the hell is going on?

* * *

"Carlton, I told you I'm fine now" I reassured him. It had been two hours since my outbreak. I'm still not sure what came over me. All I know is that he kept smiling and all I could think of was how much I hated him. God. I hated him. I had never truly _hated_ anyone before.

"You sure about that, O'Hara?" Carlton asked me.

"He's a witness. We need to protect him. Especially if he can help us find Shawn."

"What makes you think he can?"

"He knew he left before we did. And he knows a lot more about Shawn's past then we do. Possibly more than Gus." Carlton nodded in agreement. I looked around and saw people still look at me questioningly. "I'm going to have to apologise, aren't I?" Carlton just shrugged.

That mean yes.

We made our way back to the interrogation room. I found myself walking faster than usual. I hated this man, but he may be the only way to find Shawn again.

"Nathan" I heard Gus calmly say to Nathan. I stopped in my tracks and focused on Gus. Carlton tried to push me closer to Nathan.

"Wait!" I hissed at him and continued to focus on Gus. Was Gus… interrogating him?

"Tell me what happened in '96" Gus continued.

Carlton then caught on to why I wanted to stay and wait. Carlton then grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the observation room. We then watched Gus interrogate Nathan. Not a very common site. Not a very comforting site.

"What do you mean?" Nathan asked. Gus just raised his eyebrows. "You're being ridiculous. That's the year of The Hour Killer attacked us. Is that what you're talking about?"

"Sort of. What happened in February?" Gus asked.

"I went to Las Vegas with my friend."

"What friend?"

"His name was Adam Smith."

"And what did you do?"

"This is ridiculous. Since when were you a cop?"

"I'm not a cop. My best friend is missing and something tells me you have an idea of where he might be and believe me, I'm not going to rest until I find him again. Are we understood?"

"I don't know where he is-"

"Just tell me what you did in Vegas."

"I was just in a casino. What else do you do in Vegas?"

"Get a job."

"A job? Oh. Right. Yeah, I got a job in the casino. Went a little in debt so… Shawn offered me a job. He was a nice guy."

"Do you know what happened in January?"

"Um… New Year's?" Gus pulled out a letter from his coat and dropped it in front of Nathan.

"Shawn got fired in January, 1996. He never worked there in February." He's good. Gus was actually doing… well. I noticed Henry's nod of approval at this.

"Well…"

"When Shawn left in 1995, he sent me letters. Every week." I shot Henry a glance. I _just_ noticed his face drop. And I understood why. Shawn sent Gus letters… but not him. "This was the last consistent letter I got. After this letter, I hadn't heard from him in almost a year. Now at some point within this year, you _met_ Shawn. Not in Vegas. I was going to confront Shawn about it today, but clearly that's not going to happen anymore. Now I want to know when you met him? Where you met him? How?"

"I don't have to answer you. You're not a cop-"

"No, but I am" Henry said. "And… you should probably answer him." Nathan stared at Henry and then at Gus.

"Fine" he whispered. "July, 1996. Las Angeles. Shawn came into the bank I worked at asking for a loan. Carl Jackson noticed that this was his second time and, in an odd gesture of kindness offered Shawn a job. Shawn gladly accepted and that's how we met."

My heart sank as soon as I heard the date. July 1996. Las Angeles. That… that was the month of The Hour Killer. I looked at Carlton for some kind of sign. He just stared at Nathan in shock. I then stared at Henry and saw a look of horror I had never seen before.

"So then…" Gus continued hesitantly.

"Your third witness is Shawn Spencer."

* * *

**I realize that most of you had already guessed this. So I guess it's not really a question answered. More just a theory confirmed.**

**Please review!**


	15. Hey Jacky

**I almost didn't finish this in time. It's just so long! Well, in comparison to what I usually write. This is 13 pages on word doc… so yes. Pretty long.**

**Reviews are not only welcome but also very much appreciated and loved. It you would be so lovely as to take a moment out of your day to give me a little review, I would be ever so grateful.**

**I realise most of you already guessed the last plot twist. But I can safely say (I think… I hope) that you won't guess any more of the twists.**

**Now, this is in Carl Jackson's point of view. I realise that he is dead, but he wasn't dead in 1996… which is when this chapter takes place. And if you didn't know Carl Jackson was dead… well…**

**Anyways. Enjoy! Please review!**

* * *

July, 1996

Carl Jackson POV

* * *

Summer should be a fun time. I mean, it really should. I'm 21 this year. I can now legally drink, drive, smoke… anything I want. But no. I'm stuck at this dead end job with the most annoying co-workers I have ever met in my entire life. But, of course, I have to be nice to him. He is, after all, my brother-in-law. It's Erica's fault, really. My misery is all her fault.

Don't get me wrong, I care for Erica. I truly do. That's why I put up with her idiot brother. But if it weren't for her, I could be in university. I could be a single man working hard to get to a job that actually matters. Instead I got a shot gun wedding for knocking her up. Along with that came the responsibility of her stupid brother Nathan.

I was the idiots supervisor. This way, whatever trouble he got into, it was my fault. And believe me, with a 19 year old high school dropout, trouble isn't unexpected. So I have to keep an eye on him. Watching his every move. Making sure he doesn't fuck up.

Last February, I allowed him a break off work. He went to Vega and became in debt very quickly. Like I said. He's an idiot. I mean, how can you be so stupid? And of course, it's _my_ fault. Mr Hayworth bursts into the bank and starts to yell at me, saying something about costing his family good money. I told him I didn't have the faintest idea of what he was talking about. Then I hear about Nathan's money problem. What an idiot. And it's my fault. I shouldn't have let him go alone, I should have gone with him, I should have kept his money safe. Blah, blah, blah.

Nathan Hayworth is a 19 year old boy who should be more than capable of taking care of himself. But, just for good measures, I _did_ tell him to bring someone with him. Adam Smith, my fellow co-worker here at the bank. The idiot somehow got arrested. Personally, I think Nathan had something to do with it. Adam did not easily get into trouble.

"Carl!" Nathan exclaimed as he walked into the bank. Late. As always.

"Nathan" I said, acknowledging him.

"How's my favourite brother-in-law?"

"What do you want?" I asked. He only ever called me his favourite when he needed something. What a self-centred idiot.

"What could possibly make you think I need something?" I just stared at him and a stupid smile spread across his face. "Right. I need to take three days off work-"

"Need?"

"Yes, need!" Nathan yelled. "there's an exposition in Vegas. I was gonna go and-"

"No." I turned around and tried to get back to work but Nathan appeared in front of me again.

"Oh, come on, Carl! It's only a couple days. Plus, it's not like I don't know the city! I've been there before-"

"Yes. When you lost all your money and got Adam arrested. Doesn't sound like a very good experience." He looked up at me with puppy dog eyes, starting to beg. "My answer is still no." I started to walk away but Nathan pulled me back.

"What would father say if he knew you were being so rude to me? What would Erica say?"

"I don't care what either one of them say. You're not going." That's a lie. Mr Hayworth scares the living daylight out of me and Erica takes after her father.

"Carl-"

"Nathan, I've already offered you a promotion, okay? Now if you want the promotion you're going to have to come to work every day _on time_. If not, the boss might not be so keen on your promotion anymore." Nathan stared at me shocked.

"Are you threatening me?"

"No. I'm giving you a choice. Go to Vegas or get the promotion you so desperately need." Nathan shook his head.

"You're such a joke" he said and started walking to his office – well, desk.

"And next time be on time!" I yelled after him.

The doors opened and in came that odd boy I had seen just last week. His name was… umm… Shawn Spencer. That's it!

"Applying for another loan?" I asked him as he approached the counter in front of me. Shawn sighed and nodded. "Still no job?"

"Nope. I've applied to five different places but all of them either want a college degree or someone just a bit older."

"Maybe this time" I said optimistically as I handed him the forms. He just frowned as he grabbed a pen.

"Yeah. Sure. Just like maybe this time my land lord won't take away my electricity."

"Don't take it personally, Shawn. Banks like this are total dicks. I mean, just last week they turned down a loan to pay off health insurance for a guy's wife."

"So basically you're telling me I have no chance?" Shawn laughed. I couldn't help but smile back and let out a small chuckle

"Not even a bit" I joked. Shawn laughed back, took the forms and went to a table in the back to fill them out.

Poor kid.

* * *

Nathan Hayworth is without a doubt the biggest pain in the ass I have ever had the misfortune to deal with. It was only five days ago that he had asked me for a trip to Vegas. He was on time the next day – probably due to my threats of firing him. But the very next day he was back to his old ways. Late to work, hardly ever did any of his work, would disappear for hours at a time. And now it was promotion day. I have to promote that bastard. There isn't a thing I wouldn't rather do than promote him. He doesn't deserve it.

Then, Shawn Spencer entered again. I was hit with a glorious idea. An idea that would work out for everyone. I'm a genius. Plain and simple.

I know him fairly well now. He's always coming in applying for loans. I know people aren't actually allowed to… but I just made some changes in Shawn's banking history. Simple.

"Hey, Jacky" Shawn greeted me.

"Hey, Spence" I greeted him. "How's life?"

"Give it to me straight. The loan. Rejected, right?" I looked down at the papers in front of me again to avoid eye contact.

"Well…"

"Thanks, man. To answer your previous question, it's pretty crap. People still not employing me and my landlord is considering evicting me."

"Well, then, I have the best news for you" I said smiling at him. He just raised an eyebrow at me. "How would you like a job here?" Shawn looked at me in disbelief before a smile finally spread on his face as he realised I wasn't joking.

"Wait… seriously?" I just nodded at him

"I can't promise it'll be high pay-"

"Oh, but it's something!" Shawn could hardly contain his excitement. "When can I start?"

"Tomorrow, if you like-" suddenly, Shawn practically attacked me over the counter as he embraced me in a huge hug.

"Thank you, Jacky! Thank you!" he then ran out of the building a new man.

* * *

I didn't think this through. And now I'm paying the consequences. Nathan, the little idiot, went ahead and told on me. What a child. He went to my boss and told him that I was hiring a new employee without his permission. Then I got a call to his office and as I was walking there, Nathan was smiling that stupid smile that made me want to punch him.

I walked into the office to see Mr Saunderman sitting at his desk, glaring at the door. Nono, he's not mad at me. That's just his general face. A constant glare.

"Mr Jackson" he almost yelled when I walked in.

"Yes, sir?" I asked, as if I was completely innocent.

"You're hiring this boy… Spencer." He raised an eyebrow at me, questioning my choices. As usual.

"Yes, sir." I confirmed, as if I didn't think it was a bad idea.

"You gave him the position Nathan was after."

"Yes, sir."

"Whatever family feud you have is none of my business. What is my business is that you can only have two employees and you just hired a third. So, you have to fire one."

"Yes, sir. Which one?"

"As I said. This family feud is none of my business. I couldn't care less who you fired. It could be the idiot, the newbie or the Vegas boy. They just have to be fired now."

"Well, sir. I think I'd have to go with Smith, sir."

"Idiot" I heard him grumble under his breath. "You're getting rid of a very good worker. This Spencer kid of yours better be a damn good worker, you hear?"

"Sir, it's just that Adam Smith is in Vegas… in prison. I don't know when he's coming back-"

"I don't _care_, Mr Jackson. As long as my profits are the same, I really don't care. Out." He pointed the door and I quickly walked out. Every bankers worst nightmare… being called into the boss's office.

"Hey, Carl" Nathan said when he saw me going back to my desk. "You fired?"

"Nope" I said.

"You demoted?"

"Nope."

"… promoted?"

"Nope."

"Well then what the hell happened?"

"I fired Adam Smith, hired Shawn Spencer and gave him the positioned you were promised. What's up with you?" I asked with a smile on my face. I watched with great satisfaction as the smile that is usually on his face slowly faded.

"You… _what_?!"

"The promotion you were after? Yeah. Gave it to Shawn." He just stared at me, eyes wide with shock.

"You can't do that. I was promised a promotion. I _need_ this promotion-"

"You weren't _promised_ a promotion. I was very clear that you needed better work performances if you wanted this promotion. But instead, you come in late, you're rude, you disappear for hours at a time… you just didn't deserve the promotion. So I gave it to someone who did. As for Adam Smith, well I just have no idea when he's coming back from jail. You're lucky about that. Otherwise I would have easily fired you and hold no regrets. Now… back to work…"

Nathan looked around confused. I finally told him off. I finally put him back into his place. Don't get me wrong, I'm never going to hear the end of this. I'll have Mr Hayworth on my ass, Erica will come and yell at me. But it'll all be worth it to see that look on Nathan's face. It'll all be worth it.

* * *

Shawn Spencer had been working at this bank for a week. Already, he was doing such a great job. I mean, he was always on time, he was always smiling and doing such a great job. Even Mr Saunderman came to me and told me I had done a 'superb' job in choosing which employee to fire. I mean, hell, he even got Nathan to like him.

Shawn was having such a good impact on Nathan. For the first time… ever… Nathan was on time for four days in a row. He was working well, pulling extra hours. He would even join us for lunch on occasion. It seemed that finally everything was turning out alright. Things were finally making sense and it seemed for once in my life that this stupid idiot might not be the worst thing in the world.

Then, Adam Smith got let out of prison. You can imagine the fury he felt when he found he had been fired.

"You _what_?!" Adam yelled at me.

"…Fired… you…" I said cautiously. If I had known Adam was coming out of prison this soon, I might have been more hesitant to fire him.

"I was in _jail_! Covering for your idiot brother! And you _fire_ me?!"

"What do you mean?"

"Nathan stole from the casino. They were going to arrest Nathan and I remembered you asked me to take care of him. You asked me to go with Nathan with the sole purpose to _help_ him! So that's what I did! I took the blame! I was in jail for six months! And this is how you bloody repay me?!"

"I didn't know you were covering for-"

"Use your common sense! Out of me and Nathan, who is more likely to do something that would put them in the slammer?!"

"Well-"

"Out of the two of us, who actually works?!"

"Adam-"

"Out of the two of us, who should have been fired?!"

"Adam-"

"And on _top_ of that, you hired this new guy I have never even heard of! I mean, what the hell did you do? Did you knock up his sister as well?" this caused Nathan and Shawn to stare at us. Some customers even stared at us. And also – thank God – several security guards looked our way as well.

"Adam Smith, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"Fine." Adam glared at me, knocked down some papers on my desk before storming out of the bank. "You'll regret this, asshole!" Adam yelled from the doorway.

As soon as he was out of site, I let out a sigh of relief. Please don't ever make me have to deal with that ever again.

"Hey Jacky" Shawn said, approaching me.

"Hey Spence" I responded.

"I hope that wasn't because of me…"

"No, no. he was fired before I hired you. That was why I hired you. We had a vacancy" I quickly lied. I didn't want Shawn feeling guilty. Especially not since he's had such a good influence on Nathan.

"Yeah. Totally believe you" Shawn said. I stared at him oddly. "You know your nose twitches when you lie?" he smiled and then started walking away.

"Dammit, Spence! How do you do that?"

"I'm psychic, dude!" he laughed as he walked away.

* * *

It was July 27th. Nearly the end of summer and already the mood within the bank was down, down, down. Shawn was even getting more and more depressed. I suppose that's just the effect of summer. Of course, it doesn't help when I fight with one of my best friends.

Adam Smith was still furious with me. Of course, I understand. He has nothing now. I mean, he's 23 and a college graduate. It's not like he had nothing to fall back on. It's just that with a criminal record a chance of a job is… not very high… and it's all my fault, really.

Eh. I have a job to do. And Adam has a job to find. He should stop putting all his time and energy into this bank. he should just grow up.

A man with a scar walked into the bank. I could see Shawn staring at him very suspiciously. That immediately made me… anxious. Shawn was very observant. He could usually tell what was really happening, who to trust and all that. I put my finger on the panic button, prepared for anything.

"Can I help you, sir?" I asked when the scarred man approached me.

"I want to cash this cheque" he said, handing me a cheque. It wasn't addressed to anyone. Just a signature and a number written down.

"Um…" I said reaching for the cheque and taking my finger off the panic button. "This doesn't have any name on it… I don't think I'll be able to accept this."

"Thought not" he said. And then he pulled out a gun and pointed it to my head. Nobody noticed. I figured they wouldn't. He was at a perfect angle. I couldn't push the button. Not without getting shot at least. "join the rest of the crowd" he said, nodding his head towards the people behind him. I hesitantly and cautiously walked away from my counter and joined the customers behind him. He then made his gun a lot more obvious, pointing it at all the customers

"OUT!" the scarred man yelled out to everyone. All the customers started screaming and shouting, causing an outright riot. They all raced for the doors. I just noticed Shawn pull out his phone through all the commotion. Nathan, of course, was looking after himself. He started running for the exit. "Not… you three" The scarred man said, pointing at Nathan, Shawn and I. the scarred man zeroed on the phone Shawn had out. Shawn was being cocky and he smiled right to the scarred man and nodded. He had called the cops.

The scarred man walked to the doors after the last customer had run out and locked them. He then looked back at Shawn.

"Congratulations" he said to Shawn. "You just earned yourself a slow and painful death." Shawn's smile started to fade. The scarred man the turned to Nathan and I and handed us a sack. "Fill it up." Nathan and I exchanged an odd look. Then, the scarred man hit Nathan in the back of his head with his gun. Nathan nearly fell over and I only just caught him. "GO!" the scarred man yelled and Nathan ran with me into the back room where most of the money was held.

While in, Nathan started frantically filled the sack with whatever he could get his hands on, despite hardly being able to stand on his own two feet. I, on the other hand, tried as hard as I could to listen into what was happening with the scarred man and Shawn.

"Let's have a little talk, shall we?" the man asked.

"I'd rather not-"Shawn's witty comment was interrupted by a huge smack as the man punched Shawn so hard he was knocked off his feet. I ran out of the room to Shawn's aid only to have a gun pointed at me.

"STAY IN THERE!" the man yelled at me.

"No!" I yelled right back at him. He pulled out his gun again and shot at me, only narrowly avoiding me. I then ran back inside.

I didn't see anything, but I did hear Shawn scream out in pain. Nathan lifted up the bag of money and started to head out of the room. I followed closely behind him. I looked at Shawn who was lying on the ground, grabbing his leg and groaning in pain. There was a patch of blood on his jeans and a pool of blood starting to form under his leg. I ran up to him and knelt next to him. Nathan, on the other hand, could not care less about Shawn. He just walked straight to the man and handed him the money.

"Thank you" the man said, snatching the bag from Nathan's hand. "Now if it weren't for your stupid friend here, this would be the end of it. I would leave and none of you would be hurt. But now, the cops are here. So…" then the man stabbed Nathan in his shoulder. Nathan screamed out and fell down to the ground.

"You bastard!" Nathan yelled out. "I got you your money, didn't I?!" the man pulled Nathan up by the hair on his head. He shoved him in a room, ignoring Nathans screams shouts and protests. He then locked the door behind him.

"Hey Jacky" Shawn laughed.

"Hey Spence" I said back at him.

"He's wearing a mask" Shawn whispered at me. I turned my head sideways at him.

"He is?"

"I don't know, actually…" wow. So helpful. "There's just something very off about his scar…"

"What are you two yapping about?" the man asked. Then, the phone rang loudly making me jump. The man picked up the phone. And then we all saw a red dot slowly appear on the man's forehead. "Oh, so you can see me?" the man said. He walked towards Shawn and lifted him up and put him in front of himself, as a human shield. "Can you see me now?" the man asked and let out a little chuckle.

"I'm going to call the shots, now. I want three million dollars transported here and a plane that will take me anywhere I want" the man continued. "And just to give you all a little motivation, if you don't… well…" the man picked up his knife and stabbed Shawn in the back of his shoulder. Shawn yelled out again and his cursed several times. "Understood?" the man then hung up the phone.

He then threw Shawn down to the ground and then cocked his gun and pointed it at me. I instinctively put my hands up in defence. He then shot me in the shoulder.

Never had I ever experience this much pain. The moment the bullet made contact with my skin all I could feel was pain. Every breath I took in was just another jolt of pain rocking through my body. Then the man approached me again. He lifted up his hand and hit me hard against the back of my head. Then I blacked out.

* * *

I woke up and it must have been… well, it couldn't have been too long. My shoulder ached like hell. But then I looked over at Shawn and realised I had to stop complaining immediately. Shawn was literally hanging on by a thread. He was lying in a pool of his own blood. His shoulder was bleeding. His leg was bleeding. His foot was bleeding. His gut was bleeding. He was bleeding everywhere. I could barely notice his chest rising and falling. His eyes were only just open, constantly threatening to close forever.

Then I realised what was going on.

"Get off me!" I yelled at the paramedics. "Get off! I don't need any help, Shawn does!" They weren't leaving me alone. "I SAID OFF!" I said, pushing them all out of the way. I stood up despite their protests and ran over to Shawn. He pried his eyes open to look at me.

"Heeeyy Jacky" he said and an uncontrollable bout of coughing followed. Out came blood.

"Hey Spence" I responded. I looked up to see a bunch of paramedics trying to pull me away. Others were simply trying to get to Shawn. So maybe I should get out of the way. Shawn needs their help. And I don't.

"They say I won't live" Shawn said.

"Well, prove 'em wrong" I said. Shawn chuckled and then coughed. More blood. "I'll see you at the hospital."

* * *

October 1996

Carl Jackson POV

* * *

I haven't seen Shawn in months. Today, I get a call saying I can finally visit him in the hospital. It was pure insanity. Apparently, because I wasn't family or –according to the hospital – friends of Shawn Spencer, I wasn't allowed to visit him until his condition was more stable. The cops, on the other hand, were more than able to go to the hospital and talk to Shawn about this very traumatic experience. They asked about the man and made him relive his awful experience.

I walked to room 202. Through the window, I saw Shawn on his feet. He had bags laid out everywhere and a complete mess all over the place. Then, I saw him grab a handful of clothes lying on the floor and shove them in one of the bags. I knocked on the door and walked in.

"Hey Jacky" Shawn greeted me, trying to hide the fact that he was packing.

"Hey Spence" I responded. "going somewhere?" Shawn just shook his head.

"No. Why would you think that?"

"No reason."

"How's your shoulder?" Shawn asked after a moment of silence.

"Fine. A lot better actually. How's your… well… whole entire body?"

"Um… fine. Just fine."

"Sit down, Shawn." Shawn listened to me – for once. He must be in a lot of pain to listen to me… I sat in front of him and looked him in the eyes. "To leave… at this point… is just plain stupid. I hope you realise that."

"And why's that?"

"You can't just leave whenever things get complicated, Shawn!"

"I have no money! I have no house! I have no job! I'll have to restart my life no matter where I go, so why the hell should I stay here? Why the hell should I stay in the very place where I nearly died?"

"Think of the witness protection programme, Shawn. They'll pay for all these costs. They'll relocate you, get you a job. You'll be fine." Shawn just shook his head.

"I can't stand it here, Carl. I just can't."

"Just wait for the witness protection programme. You'll be fine. You'll see." Shawn and I just stared at each other. "Besides. You're in no condition to run" I said, staring at his leg. Shawn just looked down at his leg, at his stomach, at his slinged arm. Then, Shawn gave in.

"Fine. You're right."

Nathan Hayworth then walked in. His injuries were the least severe. A concussion and 17 stitches on his shoulder. He smiled at Shawn. A nice smile this time. Was I seeing a new side to Nathan?

"Hey, douchebag!" Nathan called out to Shawn. No. No I was not seeing a new side. I then walked out to give the two a little privacy. I walked into the waiting room and sat down. Soon, I found Erica and Mr Hayworth. I pointed into the direction which Nathan went to and told them Shawn's room number. Instead, they sat down next to me and put papers in front of me and handed me a pen.

"What's this?" I asked.

"Divorce papers" Mr Hayworth answered. I looked up at him and then looked at Erica.

"You've been a wonderful father and really a great husband" she said. "Very supportive. But let's be honest, we married because-"

"It was a shotgun wedding" I said, speaking out the truth. Erica smiled and nodded.

"It was a shotgun wedding, yes. We were good friends in high school and I care for you in a friendly way but… I can't get caught up in this witness protection thing. I can't have some killer out to get me. I have to think of myself. And the baby." I signed the divorce papers. I never wanted this marriage anyways. I should be thrilled. "Of course, you can visit Mattie whenever you want. He is, after all, your son too."

"Don't worry" I assured her. "I understand. But now that I'm not married to you, might I just say" I turned to look at Mr Hayworth. "You sir, are an ass. A huge, intimidating, undermining and inconsiderate ass. Your children follow whatever you say as if they were your little mindless robots. And it sickens me."

"I am _not_ a mindless robot!" Erica exclaimed.

"Yeah, I'm sure of that. That's why during your whole speech you couldn't stop glancing at your father for a nod of approval" I'm picking up Shawn's old tricks. "I'm glad to be getting out of this now. Also, I will take you up on your generous offer of visiting my son whenever I want. Because, as you said, he is my son after all. I wish you both the very best. Goodbye." And then I walked out of the hospital free from the Hayworth curse.

* * *

December 1996

Carl Jackson POV

* * *

Today was the day Shawn Spencer got released from the hospital. He tried to run away a total of eleven times in the past two months. Each time, I had to sit him down and talk him into waiting for the witness protection programme to assign him a new location. Then he could start fresh with a new job, a new house and money to last him a while.

Nathan, Shawn and I were waiting at the LAPD. We were just standing at the exit, waiting around for our cars to come and take us to an airport. To take us far, far away from here. Between the three of us, there was some kind of unspoken pact… this would be the last we ever heard from each other. If we were ever to meet again, someone's life better be in danger.

"What are you gonna do, Nathan?" Shawn asked. Nathan smiled a genuine smile.

"I'm going to go to college. Get a degree in something… anything. Then I'm going to move back in with my ass of a father and my mindless robot sister" Nathan then glared at me. He was never going to let it go. Shawn just laughed. "What about you, Shawn?"

"I don't know. I'm just going to go far away. Never come back" he said. That was Shawn code for… I'm going to run away. I knew what he had in mind. He would go wherever the police sent him… but only for a while. Then he'd pack up his bags and leave town forever.

Nathan's ride arrived. He and Shawn stared at eachother before going in for a huge hug.

"Take care of yourself, Nathan" Shawn said to him. "Don't fall back into the trap of being an ass like you were when I first met you." Nathan laughed.

"Never." Nathan then looked at me. "I guess I'll see you at some point. When you visit your son…"

"Don't worry about it" I assured him. "We've already arranged that he visits me in holidays. Not any family reunion of any type." Nathan smiled that cocky smile.

"Good." He said. And with that last word of goodbye, he was gone. Gone God knows where. I looked over at Shawn, glad to get time alone with him to say goodbye. His attention was diverted to a rack with post cards. He ran over and picked up one.

"What are you doing?" I asked him.

"Writing to a friend" he said already pulling out a pen. I grabbed his arm.

"You're not supposed to tell people where you're going."

"I'm not. I just realised I haven't sent him a single thing since… well, almost a full year. I just have to tell him I'm alright."

"Shawn Spencer, your ride is here" an officer said. Shawn looked up in horror. That poor emotional boy.

"But… I…" he was lost for words.

"Write down your message, quickly. I'll send it to him" I assured him. Shawn then quickly scribbled down three words and the address before handing it to me.

"Wish I could've written more" he said. Then I walked him to the exit of the station.

I didn't bother asking if I'd ever get a letter from him. We both knew the answer. I cared for Shawn, he was a great friend… but this is something I wish to forget. And it would be impossible to do so if I had Shawn as a constant reminder. I know the same went for him.

"What do you plan to do?" Shawn asked, afraid to step into his ride.

"Go back to college. Finish the degree I started." Shawn smiled and nodded.

"Good plan. What happened anyways?"

"I…" might as well tell him. I'll never see him anyways. "Erica and I were high school sweet hearts. We met up one day during college year, just to catch up. We ended up hooking up and she got pregnant. Then there was a shot gun wedding."

"And then you called Erica and Nathan mindless robots."

"And I called their father an ass…" Shawn laughed.

"Nathan taught you well, it seems." I couldn't help but laugh at that too.

"Mr Spencer, we're in a hurry…" the officer said. Shawn just stared at me and then I pulled him in for a hug. It killed my shoulder but, dammit, this is the last time I'll see him!

"Goodbye, Jacky" Shawn said. I could feel my eyes start to water. This truly was goodbye. This truly was the last time I was going to see him, the last goodbye I was ever going to say to him.

"So long, Spence."

* * *

**Also, one last thing. If you want a hint/small spoiler PM or tell me in a review and I shall give you one. It is a very small one… I think…**


	16. Erica

**I do apologise. This chapter won't be the longest… or the greatest… I'm experiencing slight writers block. Like, I know what going to happen. How it's going to end, what's going to happen next. I just don't quite know how to get it down on paper… **

**But you know what? This chapter still raises a lot of questions. So enjoy!**

**So please, review for this chapter especially. Just tell me if you think it's just awful or if you think it wasn't as good as the others, but bearable. **

**Thank you all for the reviews. I do try to update every day and I am currently nearly asleep on my laptop trying to finish this one off. So, might be some errors…**

**Please review! Love reviews! Good, bad, the whole thing!**

* * *

Present Day

Carlton Lassiter POV

* * *

I was sitting in the interrogation room, opposite Nathan Hayworth. He had just explained what exactly happened in 1996. He didn't see anything. Just, apparently, heard a lot of screaming. It was at that point that O'Hara and Bigger Spencer walked out of the room. Soon after, when Hayworth mentioned the state Psychic Spencer was in when the cops came, Guster left the room. Unable to handle it anymore. So now only I remained to ask the questions that needed to be asked.

I don't know how Spencer always gets caught up in these sort of things. I mean, when Spencer got shot a couple years back, I thought _that_ was bad. That's nothing in comparison to this! He was practically drained of blood. The cops found Spencer in a pool of his own blood. He was at death's door! And somehow, he survived. I am grateful he did. I truly am. But, damn. How does a single person somehow manage to get caught up in all of this mess. Poor Shawn. That poor kit.

I mean... that damned, stupid incompetent psychic.

"So, if you were such good friends with Spencer, why didn't you ever go find him?" I asked Hayworth, finally getting down the questioning.

"Neither of us wanted to remember what happened, detective. I mean, hell, I didn't even see Carl until I heard he died. And he's the father of my nephew."

"So he got to visit his son?"

"He got to, yeah. Until two years ago. With the more intense witness protection programme it became harder to visit." Fine. Whatever. This is really none of my business anyways.

"Are you sure you're not hiding anything else from us? Because this thing about Spencer was pretty big. And you failed to bring that up the last couple times we interrogated you."

"Detective, I've already told you everything-"

"That's what you said last time." He just glared at me. I don't see why. He's the one who's been hiding everything from us. If anyone, it should be me being very pissed off with him. And, you know what? I am!

Nathan Hayworth was the most annoying person in the world. I'd rather deal with Shawn every day of the week, including holidays and weekends, then have to deal with Hayworth for another day. I just want to solve this case and get rid of Hayworth.

Actually, scratch that. I want to catch the bastard that did this to Spencer. I mean, damn, he's a pain in the ass. But Hayworth really has made me appreciate Spencer more. And despite his annoying quirks, he was a damn good detective and… dare I say it… a good… friend.

"I'm positive, detective." Hayworth said. Somehow, I didn't quite believe him. But I was done with him. I just wanted to get on with the case. And seeing as Hayworth is a dead end, I should work on someone that actually helps.

"Lassiter! Lassiter!" McNabb called out, running towards me. I was not in the mood to deal with him right now. But I'm guessing I have no choice, right?

"What is it, McNabb?" I asked.

"I just got a call from the bus station. They said they could confirm that Clovers was on the bus. He has a solid alibi for the death of Carl Jackson."

"And they'd be willing to testify this?"

"Yep. They assured me of that."

"Well that's just peachy" I said and started to walk away.

"Oh, um… I got a text from Shawn and-"

"Woah, woah, woah. Back it up. You got a text from Shawn?!"

"Yeah…"

"Gimme that phone, McNabb!" I yelled and snatched it away from him. He didn't know Shawn left yet… maybe nobody did. I looked at the text. It was sent ten minutes ago and all it included was a number followed by the name Adam Clovers. What the hell?

* * *

I walked into Clovers' interrogation room, still unsure of what I was doing. Or what I was going to ask. I just opened the door and walked up to the table.

"Can I help you, detective?" he asked.

"Well, I'll admit this is a bit awkward, but I believe we might have made a mistake in accusing you so quickly" I said. A smile creeped up onto his face.

"Glad to let you guys see that…"

"But, we can't actually prove anything until your lawyer gets here. I just want you to know, that we're on your side." Clovers smiled and nodded.

"Well, thanks. It really means a lot to me."

"I just don't understand why your lawyer didn't mention you catching the bus. It's was an air tight alibi."

"He figured the times were too close together and that that would put me at the scene of the crime." I suppose I could understand that. Besides, at the time there was not solid proof that Clovers was on the bus.

"Well, we can't get anything through without approval from your lawyer. So, if we just get a hold of him, you should be a free man. I apologise or any inconveniences."

"Inconveniences? I was put on trial. I was going to prison. I lost my job and God knows what my chances of a future job are. And it's your fault. " Clovers started to calm down as he remembered he was talking to possibly the only people who could get him out of this trial.

"I'll see to it that you get your old job back. And a clean record" I offered to him. I mean, it is the least we could do. We did nearly charge him with murder.

"Well, thank you. I appreciate that." I just nodded at him.

"I don't suppose you could tell me a bit about Jackson, could you?" Clovers shrugged.

"What's to say? He was a dick. He didn't really prioritise things correctly. He would always put friends ahead of work. Like the secretary. He gave her the promotion simply because of an old friendship. I deserved that promotion. And it shows. I mean, Erica is doing an awful job at her the new job that I should have gotten. And, also, he would always turn up late saying he was working on some sort of thing with his friends. Don't know what. But he just kept telling me it was on his desktop."

"This Erica… she's not by any chance an Erica Hayworth… is she?"

"Hey! How'd you guess! You psychic too?" I just groaned and shook my head.

Please God, don't let this Hayworth be as annoying as the other one.


	17. Reminds Me Of You

**Hello my lovelys! I'd like to apologise for yesterday's update… I wasn't very fond of it but it was kind of needed… plus I wanted to update something. I just didn't think yesterday's one was that great. So hopefully, I can make up for it with this chapter.**

**Not a long chapter. Not as short as yesterday's. But still, not very long. But, a lovely SHOCKER at the end. Enjoy!**

**Please review! The good, the bad… all types! I appreciate and love all types of reviews! So please, even if it's a bad review or a correction of my grammar, just go ahead and review!**

* * *

Present Day

Karen Vick POV

* * *

At long last, I can go back to Santa Barbara. After a never ending couple days in LA, I can finally come back _home_. Well, not home. More, like going to work. It's still better than dealing with those people in the LAPD. I mean, all I wanted was to see the files for the Hour Killer. It's fair enough. We are possibly dealing with him right now! And it took me two whole days to convince them to give it to me.

And now I come back to a mess. The SBPD is a complete mess! People are in a frenzy and, would you look at that, Carlton is calling the shots! Who the hell put him in charge when I left? Well, I did. But, this is too far. I was gone for two days. Not a week. I shouldn't have to come back to this.

"Would someone like to explain to me what is going on?" I yelled when I walked in. Carlton turned around to face me. As did Gus, Juliet and Henry. But… where the hell is Shawn.

"Chief. I… uh… when did you get back?" Carlton asked me.

"Just now, actually. I was busy in LA trying to get a case file. Now what the hell is going on? And where is Shawn?" this caused an awkward glance between the four of them. What the hell happened when I was gone?

"Um… Shawn's gone" Juliet said quietly.

"Well, then go get him-"

"No… I mean he left, chief. He's gone." Oh.

"Why?"

"He was forced to" Gus said quickly. Then Carlton handed me a file filled with letter addressed to Shawn. Threatening letters. Some photos too.

"Are these all of them?" I asked. There was no answer. Instead, everyone looked over at Juliet and she just looked down, refusing to make eye contact.

"Juliet?"

"I… well…"

"Detective O'Hara, this is all evidence. You know just as well as I do that it is a criminal offence to withhold any evidence from a case. Now stop hiding it and hand it over!" She hesitated for a second before digging into her pocket and pulled out a photo, handing it over to me. As soon as I glanced at it I realised why she was keeping it a secret. I folded up the naked picture of Juliet and put it into a brown envelope as evidence.

"It's evidence, Juliet." I said to her. She just nodded, staring at the envelope.

Just then, Buzz McNabb ran into the room. He completely ignored me and ran straight to Carlton holding up several different files. He handed it to him immediately and, although out of breath, he started to speak.

"I found everything you need" McNabb said between breaths. "Erica Hayworth still works in Jackson's company. She moved here with Jackson when he got relocated. As for Adam Smith, there isn't much on him. I found his criminal record from Vegas as well as his work history. After university, his first job was with the bank in LA. Once he was fired he kind of… disappears. But, two years ago we get news that he got a new job back in LA working in tech support. He worked occasionally with the LAPD, but could never actually get a proper job with them because of his criminal record. He recently got transferred to Santa Barbara, though."

Carlton seemed to understand everything that McNabb said. I just stood there looking at him as if he were speaking gibberish. What the hell were they talking about? Erica? Smith? What?

"Will someone fill me in before I start firing people?" I hissed. With that, McNabb slowly backed away. And even that eventually turned into a run.

"Oh, right. Chief…" Carlton then explained everything. About Shawn and what he went through in the past couple days. Then the letters. And then, finally, they explained the three witnesses. Nathan, Carl and – I can't believe it – Shawn Spencer. He was a witness. He was _the_ witness. The one who should have died. How could he have kept that a secret for so long? How does he not have any long lasting trauma from that?

And so, what do I learn from all this? My trip to LA was completely wasted. I earned the trust of the LAPD and that was it. No new information and certainly nothing that I didn't learn from what Carlton just told me.

"Okay, so our prime suspects are-" I started, trying to catch up.

"Adam Smith and we're considering Erica" Henry said.

"Why Erica?" and then I saw Henry, Juliet and Gus all stare at Carlton.

"She seemed very keen to get rid of Jackson back in '96. Hayworth told us that as soon as it was over, Erica made him sign divorce papers. I find it odd she just happens to be here. That she came with Jackson to Santa Barbara."

"Alright. Then we need to question them both" I said, for the first time today feeling in control again. "I suggest-"

"CHIEF, CHIEF, CHIEF!" McNabb suddenly came running back in. Carlton groaned and turned to face McNabb, in a very bad mood.

"McNabb, whatever you want, we're busy" He said.

"No, I don't need anything. It's just that-"

"Then get out of here!" Carlton yelled.

"There was an accident" McNabb continued, now looking at me. "In Las Angeles-"

"The nerve you have" Carlton said. "We're in the middle of an investigation. To not only find Spencer, but also find The Hour Killer. And here you are, wasting our time with an accident. Not just any accident, either. An accident in Las Angeles. This has absolutely _nothing_ to do with us! Let the LAPD deal with it! Now, will you leave us so we can get back to work?!"

"Lassiter, I want to find Shawn just as much as you do!" McNabb yelled right back at him. Everyone – and I mean everyone – stared at him in shock. Henry stared, Gus stared, Carlton stared, people down the hall stared. I stared too. McNabb was actually yelling at Carlton. "I care about Shawn! He's a close friend of mine! Do you really think I'd waste your time when it comes to finding him?!"

"I…" Carlton said, lost for words.

"What I'm trying to tell you, chief" McNabb said turning towards me again. "Is that there was an accident in LA between a car and a motorcycle. It happened in an abandoned road, so no one actually saw the accident happen. They just saw the wreck. They were, however, able to identify the motorcycle in that wreck. It's Shawn's bike. They also found traces of blood that matched with Shawn's. We just got a call from the LAPD. Once they found out he worked with us, they called to tell us."

"He's in Las Angeles?" Gus asked. "Why would he go back there? Of all places… of all times. He's being threatened by The Hour Killer, so he returns to the scene of the crime?"

"Something really weird is going on" I agreed. "We have a lot to do, and not much time to do it in. Carlton, I want you to go and question Erica. See what you can find. Juliet, I want you to find Adam Smith and question him. Henry, Gus, I'm going to send you to investigate this crime scene in LA. See what you can find-"

"Chief, I want to go to LA" Juliet said. "I want to help find him."

"Juliet, you are far too emotionally involved in this case. I can't have you going off to find Shawn when you're like this-"

"What about Henry!" Juliet cried. "He's Shawn's _father_! And Gus is his best friend. How are they not emotionally attached? Why can't I help?"

"Because, Detective, you are the only one of all of you yelling and screaming. You're lucky I'm putting you on this case at all." Juliet stared at me in shock. Oh yes, the injustice. She wouldn't make good decisions in this emotional state of hers. "In fact, McNabb. I want you to accompany Juliet to find Smith-"

"I don't need an escort."

"It is my call" I snapped at her. She frowned but finally nodded in agreement. Carlton just stared at her in shock. He wasn't used to seeing her like this. I wasn't either. Hell, no one was. She was usually so calm. So… in control of her emotions. "Now go" I said to them.

Henry squeezed into Gus' car, grumbling something about the humiliation of having to ride around in an Echo. Carlton quickly ran to his car and drove far too eagerly away from the station and to Erica's address. Juliet was about to follow McNabb into his car. But instead, I grabbed her arm and pulled her aside.

"What's going on, Juliet?" I asked her.

"Nothing" she said calmly.

"Don't give me that. I've spent several years with you. I've seen you in emergencies, I saw you when Shawn was shot. You don't react the way you just did. Now tell me what's going on." Juliet opened her mouth to speak but instead tears just started pouring out her eyes. Before I knew it, I was pulling her into a hug.

"What if we never find him?" she croaked.

"Don't think like that, Juliet. We'll find him. And the bastard responsible." She just kept sobbing

"I don't want to lose him."

"Then, please, Juliet. Pull yourself together. We need to solve this crime. We need to figure this all out." Juliet nodded and wiped away her tears, trying to compose herself again.

"You're right… I know you're right." I straightened out my suit.

"McNabb" I called out. He turned his head towards us again. He wasn't comfortable seeing Juliet crying. Neither was I. I don't think anyone was.

"Yes, chief?" he asked. Juliet then walked off towards McNabb's car. I turned to face him.

"Watch over her, McNabb. She's a bit… emotional today."

"Kind of reminds me of you." Excuse me? I _never_ lost control of my emotions like she was. How dare he compare me to that! He seemed to understand the annoyance I felt. "No, not now. I mean back a couple years. When you were pregnant. The smallest thing would set you off." I stared at him in shock. "Never mind" McNabb finally said. "See ya later, chief." He then walked away quickly from me and entered his own car.

My God… could… could it be?


	18. Unknown Narrator

**Hello Lovelys! Thanks for all the wonderful reviews! So, originally, I was going to have this chapter be about Gus and Henry going to investigate the crash scene in LA. I even started it and got about halfway (meaning I'll have no excuse tomorrow if I update late…). But, then I realised that this is a chapter I really wanted to do and it won't fit any other place than this. **

**This is an… interesting chapter. You'll see why.**

**Not as long as I had hoped it would be. It will have to do. Slight gore. And a bit of a cliffy. Enjoy!**

**Reviews! Always very much loved and very much appreciated. So good, bad, terrific, absolutely horrid, all kinds. Please review!**

* * *

Present Day

Unknown

* * *

That Shawn Spencer was a witness. He was a witness to the crime I committed in 1996. How did I not know this? How did I not recognise him?

I never wanted to kill anyone. Which makes it a mystery to me as to why I'm nicknamed "The Hour Killer". I robbed a bank. I didn't kill anyone. I _intended_ to kill someone. That's an entirely different story. That boy had called the cops on me, making my job a whole lot more difficult.

I killed Carl Jackson. I'm not going to lie about that. I killed him because he was about to find out who I was. To him I was no longer just "The Hour Killer". I was an actual person, whose name was becoming more and more familiar.

Actually, everything that happened with Jackson was rather ingenious. You see, I had a wonderful computer that could hack into the LAPD. I could change everything. My criminal record, other people's criminal record and even access the files that the police tried to keep hidden. Such as, the 1996 robbery. But, the idiot stole it from me. I don't know how. I guess that makes me the idiot.

But, I figured, instead of working on the whole thing again, hacking into the LAPD system again (which, was _not_ easy the first time round) I would simply hack into my old computer. It was easy enough to do. But one day, I found out that he was actually using my own programmes against me. He was actually tracking me down. He noticed that he was being hacked, and started to track the source of it. Not so much of an idiot. It quickly became a battle of internet wits. We were tracking each other, hacking each other.

I won.

Carl Jackson at that point, knew too much. So, you see, he had to die.

I walked into his apartment, expecting to find him there. Instead, it was empty. So I started to look around, looking for any files that he might have kept about me, but found nothing. All I had to do was wait and then I could kill him. But, to my extreme anger, the idiot had brought someone home with him. That meant I had to wait longer.

I hid in the closet. And that's when I got the brilliant idea. I could pin the murder on this guy. All I have to do, is kill Jackson as soon the idiot leaves. Then he would have no alibi. And judging by their argument, there was definitely motive behind the murder.

Sure, I made up this plan as I went along, but it turned out beautifully.

As soon as the man left, I walked out of my hiding place and stabbed Jackson. He collapsed to the floor and died almost instantly. So I just walked out of the flat. And the psychic came in to investigate, and sure enough he fell for my trap. Some 'psychic'.

And then… he had to go and ruin everything. Believing that Clover was innocent, investigating the case again. I had to threaten him. I had to get him off the case.

It took a lot of convincing to do. I thought, surely the photo of his nude girlfriend would make him pack up and leave. But it seems, he figured that as long as they were in the police station, they were safe. I had to convince him otherwise. So I walked in. I was noticed. Many times. By everyone. Did they care? Of course not. I greeted the idiot cop (I believe his name is Buzz) as I walked in and he greeted me by name. I took a picture of the psychic's father and on my way out, left the hat on his girlfriend's desk.

And that did it. As soon as he saw the hat, he freaked out and he ran away. Just as planned.

But then I heard the most annoying of news. Shawn Spencer – the very person I had just chased away – was a witness to my crime. Not just any witness, one that knew I was behind Jackson's death.

I was intending on dealing Hayworth today, but unfortunately, I had a promise to keep. I had promised that idiot witness that he would have a very slow and painful death.

* * *

Because of that stupid psychic, I have to drive all the way to Las Angeles. I have to find the idiot. God I hate him.

It didn't take me that long. After a while, I managed to find his bike. He was driving down a very public road. I couldn't exactly attack him here. Far too obvious. So I followed him. He seemed to have noticed after we entered a very abandoned road. He tried to accelerate. He tried to lose me. But, that failed. He sped up, I did too. And finally, my car made contact with his bike and he went flying.

I got out of my car, gun in hand. Just in case, really. I want him to suffer. Not immediately die.

He just lay on the ground, groaning in pain clutching his knee. He looked up to see me approaching him. To my annoyance, he smiled at me. That stupid smile that he had 16 years ago when he had called the cops. That lit a fire in me that I hadn't felt in a very long time.

"I knew it was you" he laughed. and with that, I hit him on the back of his head with my gun. He passed out immediately. I picked him up by his shoulders and dragged him into my car. I shoved him in the trunk, tying up his hands. Even if he _did_ manage to get out by some miracle, his legs far too messed up for him to run.

I drove with… thrill. To think, all those years ago, the mere thought of actually killing someone made me feel sick. And now, here I am. Getting a thrill from it.

I arrived at Shawn's old apartment. An address I had learnt from the LAPD files. It was closed down four years ago. Too much damage to the place and not nearly enough buyers for any of the flats. It was literally in the middle of nowhere. No other houses but this one apartment block in the middle of nowhere. It was a dump. And to think, Shawn couldn't even afford this place.

I dragged the psychic up the stairs until I finally arrived at his old flat. I found a chair and tied him up to it, each arm on its own armrest. Then I waited for him to wake up.

It didn't take long. Maybe a couple minutes. But he woke up at last. The fun could begin.

When he woke up, he looked around in shock. And then, the wonderful look of fear spread across his place as he recognised where he was and remembered who he was dealing with. He struggled with the rope and then groaned in pain. Probably his knee again. I smiled at him.

"Hello, psychic" I said to him. He just looked up at me. No smile on his face. Pity. "How are you?"

"I'm just wonderful. How are you?" he answered.

" A lot better now that I know the only person who actually knows who was responsible for the Jackson killings is going to die." I saw the brief look of terror flash through his face.

"Wow. Sucks for him" he said. I just smiled and nodded.

"But, as I promised. Long and painful." I then pulled out the two knives I was hiding. He focused only on the knives. I couldn't help but smile at him. The wonderful look of horror as I approached him. I grabbed one of his hands and spread it out so that his palm was facing down. Then I raised up my knife and stabbed the arm of the chair through his hand.

The shout that escaped his lips was… thrilling. It sent my heart racing. The pure agony in his voice was satisfying. Very much so. I pushed on the knife again, twirling it slightly. And another shout escaped from his lips. With the other knife, I put it on his face and dragged it from the corner of his eye down to his chin. He grunted slightly as I was doing it, but other than that tried to keep his pain hidden.

"There" I said with satisfaction. "Now we can have matching scars."

"Joy" he managed to say sarcastically.

I then reached for his other hand, preparing it for the same fate as the other. He quickly clenched it into a fist and tried his very best to save himself the pain. He tried, of course, in vain. I slammed his hand down and held up the knife ready to strike it.

"Nonono. Please don't!" he started to beg, still trying to struggle his hand free.

"Long and painful death, Shawn. I promised, didn't I?" and with that I stabbed his hand again. He yelled out in pain once again. Not going to lie, that put a smile on my face. Then I walked for the door.

"Where the hell are you going?" Shawn yelled out. Never thought he'd be so upset to see me go.

"Oh, I have an appointment with Mr Nathan Hayworth to make. He's expecting me" I said with a smile. "Don't worry, though. I'll be back and we can finish off." I then grabbed a small glass cup and a bottle of a clear liquid. I filled the cup half way and walked towards Shawn. "Until then…" I balanced the cup on Shawn's right leg. "Try not to move." I then walked for the door again.

"Wait. WAIT! What is this?!" he yelled after me.

"Oh, just some acid" I said with a shrug. The look of horror on his face was beautiful. "Try not to have too much fun without me."

"No! Wait! No!"

I slammed the door behind me and made my way down the stairs again. I climbed into my car and drove back to Santa Barbara. Today was turning out to be… pretty good.

* * *

**So… I never wrote a story in the killers POV. What do you guys think? Any good? Interesting? Let me know!**

**Please review!**


	19. He Strikes Again

**Hello my lovelys! Update coming your way! I'm very happy you all liked my chapter yesterday. It was an interesting one. I'm thinking of doing another one in the killers point of view later on. Should I? Or should I not? You choose.**

**You know, I wonder who actually reads these author notes… Sorry if you find them super annoying. I just find they get me into the mood and get me started. So, yeah. Enjoy!**

**Reviews! I do love all kinds of reviews. Good, bad, corrections… I appreciate them all. So, please! Do review and tell me what you think!**

* * *

Present Day

Henry Spencer POV

* * *

Gus was driving us both to Las Angeles. The ride was very quiet. We had both found out that Shawn was one of the witnesses in The Hour Killer case. And now… he's in some sort of accident. Trust Shawn to get himself mixed up in all this craziness. To get caught up with The Hour Killer and to somehow get into a car crash.

I still can't believe he was a witness. I remember when I first heard of The Hour Killer case. All I could do was pray and hope that Shawn was in Vegas, safe. Gus usually told me how he was doing. When he got a job, when he lost a job, when he'd move and where to. Since he never told me anything about him losing his job in Vegas, I assumed he was still there. But apparently he wasn't.

Shawn was a witness. Not just any witness… he was the negotiator. I heard of his injuries after the robbery. It was a shock that he was alive. Everyone though he would have die. He must have been in so much pain… and he was all alone. No family… no friends to stand by his side. To support him. I should have been there. I should have known it was him. I should have gone to Las Angeles… I should have checked up on him.

And then I realised… Gus said he was getting letters from Shawn every year… regularly. I only heard about Shawn every once in a while, if even that often. Why didn't he tell me more? He knew I was worried about Shawn. Why didn't he tell me more?

Why didn't Shawn ever send me a letter?

"You alright, Mr Spencer?" Gus asked me. Great. We were going to have one of _those_ conversations now.

"You got letters from Shawn when he was gone."

"Yeah…"

"Regularly." Gus shot me a brief glance before looking back at the road ahead of him.

"Yeah…" he answered again.

"Then why did I only hear about my Shawn every so often?"

"Oh…"

"Yeah."

"Well, sometimes he's ask me not to tell you things. And I'd respect that. But, honestly, I did try to keep you as informed as possible."

"Don't you think it would have been a good idea to tell me he got fired from his job in 1996? That sounds like something I should have known."

"He asked me not to, Mr Spencer. If I had known that that would have caused him to be a witness in that robbery, of course I would have told you. But I didn't. I thought it was just another job problem."

"What else haven't you told me?"

"Does it really matter? That was all more than 10 years ago."

"The Hour Killer robbery happened 16 years ago. This stuff matters, Gus."

"Look, to be honest, I didn't even hear that much from him after The Hour Killer."

"Did he ever tell you about Nathan Hayworth?"

"Nope. But I am suspicious about him. Very much so."

"Gus, he's a witness. Why would he-"

"Am I seriously the only person who thinks that Nathan was in cahoots with The Hour Killer?" We both fell silent. We knew exactly why. We knew exactly what we were expecting and the fact that it wasn't there made our hearts break. We were expecting Shawn to start to make fun of Gus. He'd say something like: 'Gus, don't make up words like "in cahoots". It's not cool.' And then Gus would retaliate by saying 'It is a word, Shawn. People still use it.'

And then the argument would carry on for ages, making everyone suddenly develop a headache that they wished would just go away. How I wish I had that headache.

"But…" Gus continued, trying to ignore the painful silence. "If you really want to know things, you can ask Shawn in person when we find him."

When we find him? He's being a bit optimistic. If we find him, is more like it. If we find him alive. God dammit, Shawn. You really know how to make me worry about you.

* * *

We finally arrived in Las Angeles after about 2 hours of the most awkward, most silent, most tense car ride I've ever been through. Gus wouldn't talk anymore, grumbling about how I was causing a distraction and he had to focus on the road. So instead, I had to deal with my thoughts. That mostly consisted of wondering how much trouble Shawn was in and whether or not we would find him.

But, at last, we were at the crash site. And there it was. Shawn's bike. Unmistakably his bike. It had several dents in it and the defining feature, a lucky bracelet wrapped around the handle bars. Juliet gave it to him. We both tried to get him to ditch the bike and get a car, saying it was unsafe. But he never would. Then Juliet got him a lucky bracelet. I'm assuming it was more of a cutie lovey dovey thing that they did rather than an actual lucky charm. I saw Gus quickly and sneakily swipe away that bracelet from the crash site. I don't blame him. In fact, I'm glad he did.

A detective from the LAPD came to greet us as we walked out of the car. He smiled at us, trying to act like today was just a wonderful day and that we were not at the crash site of my son.

"Hello! My name is Detective Harold Gurley" he said, offering his hand. Gus and I just stared at it. He then awkwardly pulled his hand away and tucked it in his coat pocket. "So, if you just follow me" he started walking away from the bike, further down the road. "You can see that here is where he landed when he fell of his bike. And then there are these drag marks. He was put in a car and you can see over here" he started gesturing to the tire tracks. "The car drove away rather quickly. We followed these tracks for about a mile, but it just leads to a highway and the tracks are lost. We don't have much of a lead as to where they could have gone."

"Any signs of a struggle?" I asked quickly.

"Well, other than the crash where he flew off his bike, there doesn't seem to be much. If you look back to where he landed, there are only one pair of footsteps and drag steps. Shawn could have been unconscious."

"Gotta be honest here, Harold. That's not exactly comforting" I said.

"No, I suppose not." Harold said. He then pulled out a file. "I took the liberty of getting Shawn's files from LA. Maybe whoever hit him took him to a place that Shawn used to know."

"Those are Shawn's files?" I asked, very curious.

"Yes."

"Including files from 1996?" Harold gave me an odd look.

"Yes…" Gus and I exchanged looks.

"Could I take a look?" Gus asked the very question I was thinking.

"Uhh… well, this is classified."

"Look, I'm a cop and his father. I think I have rights to see it."

"I don't know… I think we should get back to this…" Harold said, gesturing to the wreck around us. I sighed in defeat. Why can't I just know what the hell happened to my son?!

"Is it possible that maybe this was all an accident?" Gus suggested, getting back to what was in front of us. Harold and I both looked at him. "Well, I mean, no one saw this crash. Maybe it was an accident. Maybe what we see here with the dragging is the person in the car driving him to the hospital."

"It's possible…" Harold said.

"Well" I said, finally understand Harold as a person. He was an idiot. "You should call hospitals nearby. See if anybody matching Shawn's description was checked in."

"Yeah… alright."

"And in the meantime" Gus said, catching on to my idea. "We'll take care of those files. See what we can find." Gus was a little too used to Shawn's manipulative ways. And here I was. Encouraging them.

"Alright. Yeah. Alright" Harold said, handing us the files and pulling out his phone. "I'll just have to go out a bit, get some signal. I'll be right back."

"Take your time!" I assured him. As soon as he was just out of view, I quickly opened up Shawn's files. Gus huddled next to me, reading just as anxiously as I was.

Shawn Spencer. He moved here in February, 1996. Got a job at the bank in July, 1996. Was in the hospital for four months. He moved to Alaska in December. He stayed in Alaska for three months. In this time, he had four different jobs. All his payments had to be delivered by cash. If anyone dared to bring up or offer to send payments to a bank, Shawn would practically break down. After a lot of stress, a lot of chaos and a lot of break downs, Shawn moved to Chicago. It was there that he was finally diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. There, he got a low pay job in a candy shop. There, he got paid in cash, had flexible hours and could always have someone covering his shift. He had counselling three times a week. In 1998, he ran out on the witness protection programme. They didn't have any more information on Shawn after that.

"That explains why Shawn never like banks" Gus said.

Suddenly, a man in a suit came and snatched the file away from both Gus and I. He stared at us with a rage that would even make Carlton Lassiter back down.

"What in God's name do you think you are doing?! This is _classified_ information!" he yelled at us. "Gurley!" he called out. No response. He turned back to us. "Who the hell are you two?"

"I'm Detective Henry Spencer. Shawn's father" I said. The man already seemed to ease up.

"And I'm Burton Guster. Shawn's partner" Gus said. The man raised an eyebrow at him.

"You brought your son's boyfriend with you?"

"Yes" I said calmly at the same time Gus yelled out "No!" We exchanged an awkward glance before looking back at the man.

"I'm Head Detective Charles Baxter. You must be the people that Karen Vick-"

"Well!" Harold said, walking towards us. "I called every hospital nearby. No one matching Shawn's description was checked… oh… I hi Detective Baxter…"

"This here" Baxter said with anger. "Is a Junior Detective."

"I figured" I said. Gus nodded in agreement.

"The nerve you have. Taking advantage of a less experienced detective-" Baxter started to yell at me.

"Well next time, arrive to your crime scene on time!" I yelled right back at him. "Look, my _son's life_ is on the line here! I don't care what it takes to find my son! I don't care if I have to sneak into your own station and steal the files that will help me solve this case. When it involves my son, there isn't anything I wouldn't do to protect him. You understand that, Baxter?" I could feel everyone around me just staring at me. But I don't care. I mean every word I said. "Now, Harold may be a newbie, a junior detective and slightly dim-"

"Hey!"

"-but none the less" I continued, ignoring Harold. "He had a smart idea. Whoever hit Shawn could have taken him back to one of the places that Shawn used to work or live or be in. it could be for some sick nostalgic reason or it could be simply because it would mess with Shawn. Bring back some awful memories. So," I grabbed the file back from Baxter's hands. "I say we start from the beginning. Shawn stayed with a friend when he first moved here. Let's go check it out." Baxter and Harold nodded in agreement. We started to go into our cars when I received a call.

"Hello?" I answered it.

'Henry! Get back here now! There's just been another killing' Karen Vick ordered in the phone.

"What? Who? Was it…"

'The Hour Killer? Yes. He killed again.'


	20. Wrong

**Hello my lovelys! For those of you who don't know, the reason I didn't update yesterday was due to some family emergencies. I do feel really bad about not being able to update. So I do apologise for that. But here's an update now and hopefully it shall make up for not being able to post yesterday. **

**This isn't my best chapter. It's not the longest and I'm still a bit… out of it because of yesterday's little emergency. So, I'm sorry if this doesn't live up to your expectations. But, please enjoy!**

**Reviews are always very much loved and appreciated. So please, do review! Any will do! Good, bad, corrections (for example, spelling Los Angeles wrong this whole time… my bad… I'm an idiot…). So please do review!**

* * *

Present Day

Carlton Lassiter

* * *

I finally drove up to Erica Hayworth's last known address. Sure, it's a risk. How likely is it that she will actually still live here? Not very likely. But, it's worth a shot. An yet, despite all my doubts, there she is. That woman was still there. Why had she not fled the country yet? She's obviously guilty.

I knocked on her door and was surprised to hear such a happy voice answering "in a minute!". No one should sound that happy. Ever. Even on the best of days.

She opened the door with a smile on her face. It quickly faded as she recognised the badge that I was holding up. Finally, some realistic emotion.

"Can… can I help you?"

"Yes, you can. I'm here about Carl Jackson-"

"Oh dear God, what has that idiot done now?"

"Well, not much. You know, being dead and all."

"…He's what?"

"Don't give me that act. You know he's dead." Erica started to collapse and only just caught herself.

"If you excuse me, detective… I have to… I have… to…" Erica started to walk into her own house but started to collapse again. I ran in and caught her. I then lead her to her couch where she finally collapsed and started to sob hysterically.

Maybe she actually didn't know… which means she's innocent. Which means I'm wrong. Dammit. I'm never going to hear the end of this.

"Look, Miss Hayworth-"

"Miss Hayworth? Oh, God. That's right. Now I'm a widow. Oh, God!" and then she started sobbing again. Wait… what? A widow?

"I'm sorry, I was under the impression that you and Jackson had divorced way back in '96."

"That was 16 years ago. That was before I realised my priorities. Carl and I remarried again six years ago."

"So it was more than an old friendship that earned you that promotion, huh?"

"We needed that promotion. Carl wasn't exactly going to turn it down."

"So… wait, if you two were married, why are you living apart?"

"Because Carl didn't want to endanger me or Matt. When he heard he was being relocated again, I told him I would come as well. He didn't want me in dangers way so we made a compromise. We would live close to each other. He visits every day, takes care of Matt and goes to his games and all that. It's just that in terms of living, I'm somewhere safe. And so is Matt." She shook her head and started to cry again.

"I'm really sorry, Miss Hay- Erica. I realise that this is a very difficult time for you but we believe that Jackson was murdered and we're just trying to investigate into this more. If there is anything you could tell us…" Hayworth just shook her head.

"There's nothing I can think of. I can't think of anything really. Not right now."

Then, the front door opened. We both heard foot steps walking into the house followed by a male voice calling out "I'm home!" Erica started to sob again.

"He's going to take it so hard. They were so close…"

Then a young boy walked into the living room. He was around 17 and I can only assume that this was the famous Matt.

"Mom?" he asked and then ran up to Erica. "Mom, what's wrong?" I should leave. I should leave right now before this gets too emotional. I need to leave right now. I can't handle dealing with a woman crying. I've never had to deal with a young boy crying, but I'm assuming I won't like that any more than the first option.

"I'll give you two some privacy" I said and stood up. I then handed Erica my card. "If you should remember anything, or hear anything… just give me a call." She didn't even look at me. I held my hand out, still holding the card. I didn't really know what to do. So I just placed the card down on the table and headed out the door.

I walked to my car and sat inside. I stared at the road ahead of me, still not quite sure why I wasn't speeding down. I should be running away from this. Then I heard the front door open followed by little Matt running towards me.

"Hey! You! Detective! Wait!" I rolled down the window to look at him. His eyes were blood shot red and he was clearly holding back a river of tears.

"Yes?" I asked him.

"Look, I loved my dad. But he was doing some shady stuff in his apartment. I went to visit him one day and saw him on his computer. I didn't see much… he quickly turned off the monitor. But it looked like he was hacking into some system. I don't know if that'd be useful or not…"

I found myself nodding in approval at this young boy. Quite a good eye. Could make a good cop… maybe. Poor kid. This is the second time he lost his dad now.

"Thanks" I said to him. "I left my number inside. If you find anything else, just call. And… umm… I'm sorry for your loss…" he just nodded, tears finally spilling over. Then I drove away. I then started to drive away.

* * *

I don't know what came over me. What the hell am I doing here? I need a warrant to search this place again. So why am I? this is illegal. I shouldn't be here. It is a crime scene that needs to be re-investigated . Why am I doing this?

Fine.

I ducked under the tape and looked around the apartment. It was a mess. Not quite what I remembered it looked like. Then I remembered what Guster told me. He and Shawn had been here. And they were chased. This was probably the end results of all that.

I remembered where the computer was. So I decided to begin my search there. I turned on the computer and saw that immediately, programmes starting running. And pretty soon, despite my protests and against my will, the computer started to hack into the LAPD system files. I didn't know what to do. So I just shut down the computer again.

Jackson really was up to some shady things in here.

Then I remembered something else Guster said. As soon as they had checked the computer, they were attacked. I have to get out of here.

I ran out the door and down the stairs. I didn't stop there. I kept running until I was in my car and a good mile away from Jackson's house. There were no chase scenes… no shootings, no yelling. Nothing. And though I'm glad that I'm not being tracked with a gun, I can't help but wonder. If he's not here, tracking me… where is he? Is he with his next victim?

* * *

I finally arrived at the police station. The sweet, sweet building that is the Santa Barbara Police Station. I walked in to see that O'Hara was already there, smiling away. Why was she so happy? What the hell is with her and her stupid mood swings?! One second she's crying, the next second she's yelling profanities and now she's smiling! What the hell is going on?!

"O'Hara" I called out to her. She turned to me and smiled even bigger.

"Carlton. Hey!"

"Why the hell are you smiling?"

"I don't know."

"How did your questioning go?" I asked, choosing to ignore her unusual giddiness.

"Um… well, Adam Smith doesn't really have an alibi. In fact, it's kind of worrying how every crime that was committed had a motive for him. Also, he could have easily done all the crimes. He was nearby every crime scene when it happened. So, of course, we brought him in. He's in one of the interrogation rooms now."

"You think it's him?"

"I don't know. There's something about him…" I just nodded, not quite sure how to respond to that. "How did yours go?" she asked me. I just looked down.

"Um... right... um... she might be..." she raised her eyebrows at me. "Innocent" I grumbled at last. She just smiled at me.

"Told you so." I just rolled my eyes at her. Then, I looked towards the interrogation room to see Adam Clovers still here.

"What the hell is Clovers still doing here?" I asked, annoyed. O'Hara just shrugged. How useful. I turned to McNabb. "Hey! McNabb! Why is Clovers still here?!"

"His lawyer hasn't turned up yet, detective" he answered. I just stared at him. Then, with a groan, I pulled out my phone and dialled his lawyer myself. This is ridiculous. You can't just leave your client in the interrogation room! Especially not when they're _innocent_!

The phone didn't even ring. It just went straight to voicemail. 'Hello, you've reached Ethan Stuart. I'm sorry, I can't get to my pho-'

"Stupid lawyer. Thinks he's too good for this damn case."

"Carlton, come on. He's probably just away because he thought he lost the case or something."

"O'Hara, this is his _client_. He should have his phone on at all times! It's just irresponsible to-"

BANG

We all ducked out of the way as we heard the gun shot echo around the station. We looked up and stared at the origin of this sound: the interrogation rooms.


	21. Right

**Hello lovelys! I have a test tomorrow… and an essay for tomorrow… so what do I do? UPDATE THIS FANFIC! What else?**

**So I've officially decided to have another Killer POV chapter (it's not this one. Or the next one. It might be the one after that though). Right, so this chapter will be better than yesterdays as my family emergency is now fully over and I can sleep easy tonight. **

**I have the cliffiest of cliffys in this one (not really. It's only going to get worst). So enjoy!**

**Reviews! They are always loved and very much appreciated so please do review! Good, bad, awesome, terrible, corrections, theories, suggestions. Anything! I love them all, so please do review!**

* * *

Present Day

Juliet O'Hara POV

* * *

I sat in Buzz's car and we drove in silence. Well, I did. Buzz was talking. But I wasn't quite listening. I was just off in my own little world, wondering about Shawn. Please God, let him be okay. Right now, that is all I ask for.

I truly hate myself right now. I yelled at him, I was so mad at him… I should have seen what he was doing! Why was I being so damn emotional with him?! And then, to top it off, I find out he's a witness! That's why he's been taking all of this so seriously! He comes across a case with a familiar name on it. Possibly a very good friend of his. Of course he would try his best to put the man behind bars.

I still remember the look of relief when he thought that Adam Clovers did it. I thought he was just happy to have found the murdered. Turns out, he was just happy to know that it wasn't The Hour Killer. But, I guess he was wrong.

And now he's God knows where, dealing with God knows what, suffering God knows what, and no one's there to help him and what if he's hurt, or dying, or in a really horrible state and he's with the Hour Killer and he's torturing him and Shawn's suffering and everything's just going wrong and I can't be there to help him because I'm stuck here dealing with someone that may or may not be behind all this while also dealing with his ass of an old friend while also dealing with the chief doubting me and also having to be escorted everywhere by Buzz because apparently I'm too emotionally involved and-

"Hey, Juliet!" Buzz quickly snapped my out of my mental break down. "Are you even listening?" he asked me.

"What? Huh? Um… yeah, you were talking about… that thing…"

"I was talking about Adam Smith. You know, the guy we're about to question…"

"Yeah. Sorry. I'm just a little worried about Shawn."

"Yeah. I am too. But, listen. About Smith… Well, he works for tech support, right?"

"Um…" I opened up our files on him and quickly doubled check. "Yep. Has worked there for about… ten years now. Moving around a lot. Why?"

"Well, I thought the name sounded familiar. He came in this morning to fix Lassiter's computer."

"Meaning he could have left the hat on my desk…" I finished his train of thought.

"Exactly."

"Good work, Buzz. That's actually really helpful." He started to smile that usual smile of his as he continued to drive.

* * *

We finally arrived at the Smith household. It took us longer than expected to. I think Buzz got lost. Maybe he's a bit too embarrassed to admit it though. Buzz and I both walked up to the front door and then we just stood there. I was so used to Carlton suddenly taking the lead, knocking the door and doing all the talking that I forgot that right now… I'm in charge. I then awkwardly knocked on the door.

To my surprise, a woman answered the door. She looked at me with a raised eyebrow but as soon as she saw Buzz's uniform, she understood what was happening. She turned back to me and I held up my badge.

"Can… can I help you… detective?" she asked me.

"I'm Detective Juliet O'Hara, this is Officer Buzz McNabb. We're here to ask Adam Smith a couple questions."

"My husband isn't here at the moment. He went to Los Angeles for a job. Well… he did say he'd be back before dinner… would you like to come in?" she gestured towards the inside of her house. Buzz and I followed her in and she closed the door behind us. "Is… is something wrong? Did Adam do something?"

"Possibly" I said. "Tell me, Mrs Smith. When did Adam leave for Los Angeles?"

"Around 4:30…" Buzz turned to me with an eager look on his face.

"That was just after your explosion at Nathan" he whispered me. I pushed him away. I knew that! It was just after Nathan had explained to us that Shawn was the third witness. It seems a bit suspicious.

"Does he often do work for police departments? In Los Angeles or even here?"

"Yes, actually… he says it's his way for making up for his criminal record. He's always felt bad about it and has tried to make up for it in little ways. Los Angeles Police Department and the Vegas Casino often ask for his help. Even though it takes a while to get there, he will always offer to help. Sometimes free of charge. Despite how in debt we are." That seems less suspicious.

Just then, the front door opened and in came Adam Smith. He zeroed on Buzz and I. As soon as he saw us, he ran out the front door. Buzz and I didn't even exchange a glance before chasing after him. Buzz was the one who tackled him down. Adam struggled and groaned in protest until at last I caught up with them. When I did, I pulled out my hand cuffs and cuffed Adam's hands together.

Buzz picked Smith up and shoved him in the back seat of the cruiser. Mrs Smith was protesting from inside the house, but I had to calm her down and explain that we were just going to question him. And that was all.

* * *

Adam Smith was put into his very own interrogation room. I still haven't heard him speak a single word. The entire car ride was dead silent. Even now, as I sat sitting across from him in the interrogation, he wouldn't say a word. It was just me awkwardly sitting across the table from him. He wouldn't even smile. I mean, at this point, I was almost _missing_ Nathan's obnoxious smile that made me want to punch him.

"So, Mr Smith. I'm going to ask you this again. Why did you run?" no response. What the hell is wrong with this person?! "I see you spent some time in jail in Vegas. Your wife told us that you try to make up for it in little ways. That doesn't really sound like the type of person that would kill and kidnap someone." No response. What the hell!

I walked out of the interrogation room, giving up on him. Outside, there was Buzz McNabb staring at me confused.

"He's not talking!" I yelled. "He _can_ speak, right?!"

"Of course. Maybe you're just a bit intimidating…" Me? Intimidating? Nono. That was Carlton. "Let me try talking to him" Buzz suggested. I gestured towards the interrogation room.

"Be my guest! I've tried everything!"

Buzz walked in to the interrogation room and I quickly moved into the observation rooms. Buzz walked in and took a seat in front of Adam Smith. Buzz smiled at him in that usual goofy smile. To my extreme shock, he smiled right back at him.

"Hey, Adam" Buzz greeted him.

"Hey, Buzz" he responded. Are you serious?!

"Look, we need to ask you some questions."

"Go for it" Smith said. This is just ridiculous. I am a _detective_! Buzz is an _officer_! I deserve some damn respect!

"Well, why did you run?"

"Because I already know what you're here about. The Hour Killer struck again. And I'm your prime suspect, aren't I?" Adam asked.

"How did you know about that? It's not public yet…"

"I just figured. With Carl Jackson being dead, Nathan Hayworth suddenly disappearing into the depths of the Police Department and Shawn Spencer running away. Seems pretty obvious."

"You knew they were witnesses?"

"I knew who worked what shifts. Plus, the Hour Killer strikes and suddenly, the three people I used to work with move out of the state? I just kinda figured."

"Well…"

"Let me just stop you there. And your little blonde detective in the observation room. I know exactly what position I am in. I don't have an alibi for the bank robbery. I was taking a nap. I was jobless at the time. I had nothing better to do with my time. But of course, no one can confirm this. So I could easily be the Hour Killer. And I have motive too, don't I? witnesses hearing me telling Carl that he was going to regret firing me? Yeah, I know it's pretty suspicious. But, you gotta believe me. I didn't do it.

"I know it looks bad, okay. I do. But listen, I didn't want to kill Carl. He was my friend. Yeah, I was mad at him, but my idea of revenge involved putting a red sock in his white laundry load. Nothing crazy. But, again, no. I have no alibi for the night of Jackson's death. I was driving up to Vegas, but it took me longer than usual because I got lost. So yes, I know it looks very suspicious.

"As for Shawn, why would I want him to run away? I have no reason to threaten him and I have no reason to chase him all the way to Los Angeles. I mean, it's not my fault he got my job, is it? He was 19 and needed a job. I understand that." Buzz just stared at him in shock. But… wait a minute…

I pushed the button and grabbed the microphone.

"Adam Smith" the man looked around confused. "Yeah, blonde detective speaking here. How did you know Shawn was being threatened?" I asked. He just stared at the wall with his jaw hanging. Now he was actually lost for words, not just ignoring me. "And also, how did you know Shawn was in LA? That information hasn't been released yet." He just continued to stare at the wall in shock. That was all I needed. "Buzz, I think we've asked everything we need to know." I walked out of the observation room and held open the door for Buzz. He quickly ran out of the room and then followed me back to the main entrance.

I don't know why, but suddenly I was smiling. I did it. I think. I cracked Adam Smith. But still… something seems very off about it. The way Mrs Smith was talking about him. She was talking about how Adam was trying to make up for his criminal record, doing little things for both the LAPD and the Casino. And… if there's anything I learnt from Shawn… it's definitely _not_ once a killer, always a killer. It just isn't.

Then, Carlton finally walked into the station. It had been a while since I had seen him and he looked pretty shaken up. Whatever happened to him… it wasn't good. But Erica isn't with him. So that means she's innocent and also that Carlton owes me a cupcake.

"O'Hara" he yelled in his usual tone.

"Carlton. Hey!"

"Why the hell are you smiling?" Everything has to be doom and gloom with this guy, didn't it?

"I don't know."

"How did your questioning go?"

"Um… well, Adam Smith doesn't really have an alibi. In fact, it's kind of worrying how every crime that was committed had a motive for him. Also, he could have easily done all the crimes. He was nearby every crime scene when it happened. So, of course, we brought him in. He's in one of the interrogation rooms now." And yet… it just seems so... off…

"You think it's him?" he asked, understanding the expressions on my face.

"I don't know. There's something about him…" I admitted. Then, I started to smile again as I paid special notice again to the fact that he had no leads on suspects with him. "How did yours go?" I asked. He just looked down.

"Um... right... um... she might be... innocent" I tried my best to hide a laugh.

"Told you so." he just rolled his eyes at me.

"What the hell is Clovers still doing here?" he asked me, as if I would know. He then turned to Buzz. "Hey! McNabb! Why is Clovers still here?!"

"His lawyer hasn't turned up yet, detective" he answered. Carlton groaned and pulled out my phone.

"Stupid lawyer. Thinks he's too good for this damn case" Carlton grumbled while shoving the phone back into his pocket.

"Carlton, come on. He's probably just away because he thought he lost the case or something."

"O'Hara, this is his _client_. He should have his phone on at all times! It's just irresponsible to-"

BANG

We all ducked out of the way as we heard the gun shot echo around the station. We looked up and stared at the origin of this sound: the interrogation rooms.

We all followed the sound of the gun. And where did it lead us? Nathan Hayworth's interrogation room.

"Oh sweet justice…" Carlton exclaimed when we walked into the interrogation room. I had to fight back a gag reflex and turn my head.

Nathan Hayworth was shot between the eyes. When I looked out of the interrogation room, I saw Adam Smith. Gun in hand. He noticed me, dropped his gun and ran away. I, of course, chased after him. But it was no use.

He was gone.


	22. Tipped Over

**Hello lovelys. Just want to start by saying RIP to all those lost in the Connecticut shootings. **

**So I've literally been debating this chapter the **_**whole**_** day. Starting last night! After updating yesterday I started to debate this chapter, tossing and turning. In class today, all I could think about was this chapter. My psych teacher had a go at me for not paying attention. The debate you ask? Should this be the killer's POV chapter, or should it be the chief's?**

**I've reached a conclusion in the end. And I'm rather happy with it. I hope you all will be too. I leave you all on another cliffy again. I love cliffys. It unfortunately is not even close to how long I had hoped it would be. Partially, because it ended up being split in half. But still, enjoy!**

**Reviews! They are always loved and very much appreciated, even if it's just to say "Hey! Shorten your author notes! They're annoying!" Honestly, I don't mind. Just tell me your true and honest opinion.**

* * *

Present Day

Unknown

* * *

That was a close call. Yes, I managed to do exactly what I wanted to. I killed Nathan Hayworth. But that was far too close. I nearly got caught. I was seen holding the gun! How could I have let that happen? And then to top it off, I dropped my gun as I ran out. It was idiotic of me, really, to leave it behind. But I _did_ wipe it down before I dropped it. They shouldn't be able to trace it back to me.

I made my way back to Los Angeles. I had unfinished business to attend to and it seems that now I have limited time to do it. The Santa Barbara Police Department aren't as thick as I had once thought. They were a bit slow and fairly easily swayed but they always found their guy in the end. But, then again, they're a psychic short right now. That gives me just a bit more time. Just a bit.

The car ride was fairly short. I wasn't quite patient enough. I may have drove past a few red light, caused a few cameras to flash as I sped by. But honestly, I'm holding a man captive and have already killed two people. The least of my worries is a silly ticket.

I walked up the stairs with a new found excitement. A part of me could only think back to the old me. How different I was back then. Back then, the thought of hurting a fly would send shivers down my spine. And now, here I am, running up stairs. Eagerly awaiting for the site that would await me. He's in pain, obviously. But how much? Did the acid tip over? Would he still be writhing in pain at this point? Only one way to find out.

I pushed open the door to disappointment. Shawn Spencer was not writhing in pain. The cup was still perfectly balanced on his leg. His face, however, was beautiful. The look of pain was overwhelming. He truly was in pain but could do nothing about it

"Oh, hey!" he said with a hoarse voice. "I was wondering when you'd come back! I was starting to miss you"Oh how I loved his sarcasm.

"Well, I just couldn't keep away" I said. "Oh, and uh… Nathan says 'Goodbye'." Shawn narrowed his eyes, staring at me confused. Then his eyes were wide open.

"No! You didn't!" I just smiled in a confirmation. "He didn't do anything! He didn't know who you were! Why the hell would you kill him?! I mean, I understand Jacky. He knew who you were. I can understand this, I know who you are. I can understand that up to a certain extent… but Nathan?! Why the hell would you do that?!" I crouched down to meet at eye level.

"For fun" I said with a smile. I expected a bigger reaction. I was hoping for a reaction that would be big enough to tip over the glass of acid. Instead, there was only a twitch of the eye. He seemed to be very conscious of the acid. "Shawn Spencer, you are without a doubt the most boring person I've ever had to deal with."

"Well, you know what could be really fun? Hide and seek. Or maybe tag. But, oh would you look at that! We can't play these games with only two people! Oh! I know! We could call Lassie, Jules and Gus. Maybe even my dad! I'm sure they'd be more than thrilled to come and join us!"

"While that sounds like a lot of fun, I have a slightly more entertaining idea." I walked towards the windows and opened them wide, letting in the unusually cold winter air in. I then turned around to face Shawn, waiting to see his reaction. He just looked at me confused but quickly realised.

"You know, I do feel a bit guilty about all this" I said.

"Really? I didn't think you were capable of guilt."

"Not about the killings. I'm referring to the fact that, had I known you were the annoying ass from the bank when I first met you in Santa Barbara, Mr Spencer, I would have killed you much earlier."

"Well, thanks. Good to know my wellbeing is always your priority."

"I feel guilty for the fact that I had to make all those threatening letter to you, really. I mean, some of them were really extreme. I had to follow your friends and father for a long time before getting a good enough shot." It was working. I was getting on his nerves.

"Yeah. Must have been real hard for you" he said icily.

"But, you know, some were rather fun. For example, the blonde detective. Juliet? That was the most fun." Shawn started shaking. Whether it was from the cold icy air from the outside or from the fury that came from what I was telling him, I was not sure. Either way, it brought a smile to my face. So I continued. "I have several shots of Juliet. Majority of them are much more… decent. There are the odd few, however, that… well… good job on landing a girl liker her. I mean, not just because she has a rocking body. She seems to be a wonderful person as well. Real nice to all her coworkers and friends and... well, you just don't deserve her. But, don't worry too much about her. Because, I have a feeling that after all this is over, she'll realise that you were just holding her back. Maybe she'll get back together with Declan. At least he could giver her what she wants-"

"Shut up" Shawn spat through his teeth. It was so clear the enormous effort he was putting in to prevent his entire body from shaking. His eyes always focused on that little glass that was so well balanced on his leg. The wonderful liquid was swirling around the cup, each time getting closer and closer to tipping over.

"Oh, have I gone and made you upset? What's the matter, Spencer? Feeling a little cold?"

"I said shut up!" and then, at last. The glass tipped over.

The look on Shawn's face was priceless. As soon as the glass tipped over, his eyes widened in fear. It took about ten seconds before the screaming finally began. Before the burning sensation finally took over his pride. His yells echoed throughout the room, bouncing off the walls in a never ending cycle. Shawn just sat in his seat, writhing in pain.

And all I could do was smile at this wonderful scene. I was finally getting what I had waited so long to see. Shawn Spencer was finally suffering.


	23. Identity Revealed

**Hello lovelys! I honestly have no excuse for posting so late. Oh well.**

**I just started looking ahead and... I think there's only 9 chapters left. Only 9. Including this one and the epilogue. It's crazy! It's kind of almost over! I don't really want it to end yet. I've had so much fun writing it!**

**This chapter will answer so many questions. Including the big one… Who is the Hour Killer? All answers will be revealed! Not all, actually. In fact, I think just the one. So enjoy!**

**Also, I wanna try something. I'm not sure whose point of view I want the next chapter to be in. The same events will happen, I'm just not sure if I want to tell them in Gus' point of view or Juliet's. So you decide! Who's Point of view should I write it in?**

**Reviews! Always loved and very much appreciated. So please do review! The good, the bad, and the ugly. They are all appreciated and very much loved!**

* * *

Present Day

Karen Vick POV

* * *

Carlton, Juliet, Henry and Gus had just left to investigate their individual scenes. I, on the other hand, was dissecting this video, trying to find even the slightest hint of who the killer could be. The video was a security video monitoring the entrance. Juliet's desk was just in view and I was watching carefully, trying to find the person who put the hat on her desk. If what Henry was saying is true, whoever put the hat there is definitely our guy.

But, unfortunately, I had no luck in finding out who it was. One second the desk was empty. Then, the hat would appear randomly. I had replayed the video over ten times, slow motion and everything. No luck.

I leaned back in my chair, almost ready to give up on the video, when I noticed something. I leaned in so my face was just inches away from the screen. Then, I played back the video frame by frame. A man was walking. He reached Juliet's desk and then suddenly disappeared. The video had been altered.

I rewinded the video to the only point you could actually see the man and zoomed in. No luck. He seemed to know exactly where the cameras were as his head was angled perfectly.

Well this solved nothing!

BANG

* * *

I walked towards Juliet. She was standing at the main entrance, staring outside. I don't know what she was looking for but I was pissed. How the hell does someone get killed _inside_ the police station?! He was Juliet's responsibility, and now a man is dead. How the hell does one manage to do that?!

"Detective O'Hara" I spat through my teeth. She spun around and stared at me in horror. "Do you mind telling me something?"

"What's up, chief?" she asked with a shaky voice.

"Have you just forgotten to check your suspects when you bring them in?"

"… Sorry?"

"Adam Smith was our prime suspect. And now he's killed someone else! I would like to know how the hell you let him get away!"

"I… I…"

"Chief, it was my fault" Carlton said. "I was distracting her-"

"Detective Carlton, I will talk to you later" I yelled at him without even turning to look at him. "Right now, I'm trying to understand how Detective O'Hara could be so _incompetent_." Juliet looked as if she was about to cry. I don't care. It's the hormones acting up anyways. "He brought in a _gun_! How did you not notice that?! And then you leave him _unattended_?! He is a suspect for a murder! Now he's wanted for _two_ murders!"

"Chief, wait" Buzz said. I turned around and stared at him in shock. Was he really trying to cut me off?

"McNabb, be very careful about what you're going to-"

"I was with Juliet when we were checking Smith for weapons. We honestly didn't find anything. The only thing we found was a pocket knife, which Juliet confiscated." I looked over at Juliet and she nodded in confirmation.

"As for attending Smith" Carlton pitched in. "I was talking to O'Hara. She was debriefing me on her questioning when it happened."

"Well then why was nobody watching him?" I asked. It wasn't directed at anyone in particular. It was more just a question to everyone who was involved. They all just looked down. "He was a _prime _suspect! How could you not think to have someone watching him?! These are beginner mistakes! The only difference is that in this situation, the consequences are far more extreme!" I looked at the three of them, trying to get some response. Any would do. But instead, they all just looked down at their feet. "McNabb, go get forensics over here. Close of the interrogation rooms."

"Um… sure, but what do I do about Adam Clovers?" what?

"He's still here?" I asked, staring at him.

"We need to have his lawyer present before we release him" Carlton explained.

"Well then, get him over here."

"I've called him already… at least half a dozen times. There's no response."

"He can't just disappear! Now go find him! MCNABB!" I yelled when I realised he was still here. "What the hell are you still doing here?! Get forensics!"

"Um… well… it's just... I need my phone…" I just stared at him. I looked at Carlton for an explanation. He was staring at him confused as well before, at last, understanding spread across his face. He pulled out a phone from his coat pocket.

"Why do you have Buzz's phone?" Juliet asked.

"Because Shawn texted him-"

"Shawn! He texted him?! Why haven't you told me about this?!" Juliet exclaimed, snatching the phone out from Carlton's hands.

"I forgot about it…" Carlton said sheepishly. "Not that it made any sense anyways. It's just a bunch of numbers-"

"It's a phone number" Juliet said. What the hell was going on with Carlton? How did he not notice that?"

"No it's not… a phone number is 10 digits. This only has 7…" Juliet smacked Carlton on the back of his head.

"The first three numbers are an area code!" she yelled at him. She then pulled out her own phone and dialled the number. She then put the call onto speaker phone. We all waited for a ring, but instead it went straight to voicemail.

'Hello, you've reached Ethan Stuart. I'm sorry, I can't get to my phone right now, but if you leave your number I'll get back to you. BEEP.'

"Ethan Stuart?" Juliet asked in shock. "Why would Shawn give us the number for Adam Clovers' lawyer?"

"Go do a background check. I want to know what firm he works for, what relationship he has with Clovers and I want to know what he was doing in 1996" I ordered.

"Chief, are we really going to consider him as a suspect? I mean, all Spencer did was give us a number-"

"Look, Lassiter. Shawn is a good detective. He's solved lots of cases and has definitely earned my trust. Considering that he was not only a witness of the Hour Killer crimes back in 1996 but also now, I think it's best that we put our faith in him. McNabb!" I yelled out again. "Get the damn forensics team here and investigate the damn interrogation rooms!"

I, in the meantime, will call Spencer and Gus. Anything to get them out of Los Angeles and off of this case. Family cannot interfere with this investigation.

* * *

"McNabb! What do you have?" I asked.

"We dusted for prints on the murder weapon. All we could find was Adam Smith's prints. We looked over the video footage and found someone that looks like they could be him. But I also remember this morning… he did come in. He wanted to talk to Adam Clovers about his case" Buzz said, filling me in.

"Which means he could have easily taken that picture of Henry Spencer in the interrogation room. And leave the hat on Juliet's desk." Buzz nodded in agreement. "Juliet! What do you have on Stuart?"

"There was no investigation on Ethan Stuart in terms of him being behind the robbery" Juliet said. "But I don't see why there wasn't. There is definitely motive. In April 1996, his wife's health insurance expired. She then got really sick and needed to go to the hospital. He applied for a loan from the bank Shawn worked at but they turned him down. In July, she passed away."

"Any alibi for the night of the robbery?"

"That was the day of the funeral, but there isn't anyone who can actually confirm he was there."

"Lassiter" I said, moving on. "What do you have on Stuart as of now?"

"He worked at Carl Jackson's company, actually" he said, reading off a file in front of him." He started working for him two years ago. When Adam Clovers was names as our prime suspect, Stuart jumped at the opportunity to represent him and be his lawyer. They were good friends in Jackson's company."

"So Ethan Stuart was close enough to Adam Clovers to know how to frame him and the motives that could be behind it."

"So Ethan's our guy?" he asked.

"Seems like it" I confirmed. "Buzz, stay here with forensics. I want you to analyse this crime scene. See if you can find anything to place Ethan Stuart here at the time of Nathan's death. Carlton, you're coming with me." I then started making my way to the car park.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"Los Angeles" I said. "That's where Shawn is. We'll see what leads the LAPD has on Shawn's whereabouts."

"I don't understand" Juliet said in a small voice. "Gus and Mr Spencer were just in LA, investigating Shawn's car crash. Why did you call them back?"

"For the exact same reason that you are staying here" I said. I saw her eyes pop out as I said that. She opened her mouth, prepared to protest, but I cut her off. "This is getting far too emotional for all of you. We can't have family or friends getting involved in this."

"Then keep Henry and Gus here! Take me with you! I want to find Shawn!"

"Detective O'Hara, the last thing we need right now is hormonal mood swings." Her jaw dropped and she stared at me in shock as Carlton and I headed for the door. "Call me if you find anything else!"

Carlton held open the passenger seat for me. I just walked past him and climbed into the driver's seat. Carlton stared at me for a while before entering the car as a passenger. There was a bit of grumbling and complaining, but even he knew the urgency of this situation. There was no time for it. I handed him my phone which was already calling the Los Angeles Police Department.

"Talk to him about what leads they have" I ordered.

I reached into the glove compartment and pulled out the flasher and stuck it to the top of car. I turned on sirens and then pulled out from car park and started to speed towards LA. Carlton grabbed hold of the handles and quickly buckled his seat belt before even putting the phone to his ear. He's never going to let me live down this awful driving, but for now all I care about is that Shawn is in terrible danger. And now, we have an actual lead.

* * *

**Who saw that coming? Please review! Tell me what you think and who you want the next chapter's Point of View to be told in! Gus or Juliet! You decide!**


	24. Test

**Hello lovelys! Sorry for not updating recently. It's just that after all this time of dodging school work, it finally caught up with me. I had to block FanFiction on my computer (as well as Facebook, Youtube etc.) I told myself "If you finish your work before 10, you can write a chapter for FanFic. The earliest time I went to bed was 1. I even have three essays due tomorrow. But… I need a break from school. Just too much work.**

**So anyways, Juliet won the vote. So it shall be in her point of view. Never fear, Gus lovers. There shall be a chapter coming up told in his point of view. **

**It's rather short. Because, (A) not much going on in this chapter (B) got lots of essays to write. But please, do Enjoy!**

**Reviews are always very much loved so please do review! Good or bad!**

* * *

Present Day

Juliet O'Hara POV

* * *

Hormonal? What did she mean by that? If this had come from Carlton, I wouldn't think anything of it. It would just be another sexist remark about how women are so emotional and blah blah blah. But the chief said it… What the hell did she mean?

Oh no. nonono. It can't be. It… it just can't…

"Buzz, you're in charge" I found myself saying. Why am I saying that? What am I doing?

"Um… Okay" Buzz said, watching me leave. "Where are you going?" Good question.

"I just need some fresh air." Great. Now the words are coming out of my mouth faster than I can even think about it. I'm really turning into Shawn.

Before I knew it, I was walking out of the station. Walking down the street, walking several blocks until finally… I found myself at a pharmacy. What am I doing here? I should be back at the station, looking up recent activity from Ethan Stuart. I should be working on finding Shawn! I should be at the station, waiting patiently for Henry Spencer and Gus to arrive. I should be there. But instead, here I am. Paying for a pregnancy test.

I found myself back at the station. Buzz stared at me as I walked in and watched me as I made my way back to my desk and sat down. Maybe the chief told him something I didn't know. Maybe she told him to watch me. Either way, it was putting me on edge. I felt my pockets, still to afraid to pull out the pregnancy test. I still had to take it. I don't want to know. But I do.

It took me a couple minutes of mental debate before I finally stood up and walked over to the bathroom. Now I have to just wait. Wait and see. I started pacing, of course. God, I shouldn't be locked in the bathroom. I should be working on the case! Oh… it's ready.

Positive. It's positive.

* * *

I'm not quite sure what time they arrived. All I know is that I'm sitting in the bathroom stall and Gus is calling out my name. I threw the test into the trash and quickly walked out of the bathroom. Gus heard me walk out and quickly turned around to face me.

"Juliet!" he yelled.

"I'm right here, Gus. There's no need to yell" I said quietly. He raised an eyebrow at me but shook off my reaction off. He walked up to me angrily. This is a side that I've never seen from Gus.

"Why the hell did the chief ask us to come back here?" he asked me.

"Because Nathan Hayworth died…"

"Yes, but now Chief and Lassie are going back to Los Angeles. Why didn't you just tell us to stay there and investigate? Why would take us off the case?"

"Gus, it was not my decision! If it were up to me, you'd stay in LA and I'd be there as well investigating. I want to find Shawn just as much as you do. So stop suggesting otherwise and take it up with the chief." Gus narrowed his eyes at me.

"You're pregnant… aren't you?" he speculated. I just stared at him shocked. _I _only just found out.

"How did you know?"

"Well" he said, smiling and shrugging his shoulders. "As a pharmaceutical salesman, I have to be familiar with the types of symptoms that different conditions could have. So, I just put one and one together, really…"

"That" Henry said, walking up behind me and then standing next to Gus. "And also because you left the pregnancy test box on your desk and you just walked out of the bathroom looking like you saw a ghost. Now, if it were any other day under any other circumstances, I would congratulate you and the idiot for son on this happy moment, but seeing as my son's whereabouts are currently unknown, I have a lot on my mind."

"Great" I muttered and I ran to my desk, quickly disposing of any other evidence.

"and, clearly" Henry said, an anger building up. "So do you. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to know why were called in here when we were doing perfectly fine in Los Angeles. We had a _lead_. We were about to follow it. And now we get called back here for nothing?"

"As I was telling Gus, I had nothing to do with this decision. If I did, believe me I would not be here right now. The chief didn't want any of us getting involved in this case because she thought we were too emotionally attached. Now if you boys have a problem with this, I suggest taking it up with her. Not me. "

"Fine." Was he really going to give in that easily? "Come on, Guster. Let's go take it up with the chief." He and Gus then started making their way back to their car.

"Woah, woah, woah!" I said, running in front of them. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Isn't this what you suggested" Gus asked calmly. "To take it up with the chief?"

"Yes. When she gets back." They both just stared at me. "She has a point. We are family and friends. We are _very_ emotionally attached and it will get in the way of handling the situation professionally. If this should be done properly, according to protocol, then it'd be best to just stay here and wait to see what the chief and Carlton find."

"Screw protocol" Henry said. Even Gus stared at him oddly. Since when was Henry _against_ protocol. "I wasn't there for my son sixteen years ago, the first time he was a victim. And I sure as hell am not going to let the same thing happen again this time. I will be there for him. Detective, you are a lovely person, but I will push you aside if you dare stand in the way of me and my son." Is… is he threatening me?

"Jules, come with us" Gus said, using a very different approach to convince me. "You said it yourself. If it were your decision you would be there investigating as well."

"Yes, but it _isn't_ my decision."

"It is now" he handed me the keys to his car. "But you know just as well as we do that we are on to something here. And you know just as well as we do that sometimes, it pays to be emotionally attached to a case. Especially if Shawn's involved." I stared at the keys in my hand for what seemed like forever before finally looking up again.

"Buzz!" I called out. He popped up from behind a desk and stared at me with worry. "You're in charge. Call me if you find anything. If the chief or Carlton call, tell them I went out for fresh air and that they should call me on my cell phone." I then led the way to the exit, Gus and Henry following eagerly behind.

"Wait" Buzz called after me. "Where are you going?"

"To Los Angeles" I said confidently. Gus smiled and quickly walked out the doors. Buzz just nodded at me in approval. Gus, Henry and I were starting to approach the car.

"You guys better be sure about this lead" I said anxiously.

"We are, we are" Henry assured me.

"I'm driving" we all said at the same time. We exchanged looks before sprinting to the car, eager to make it to the driver's seat first.


	25. Known Narrator

**Hello Lovelys! Firstly, I'm going to have another vote. The next chapter, Lassie's or Chief's Point of View? You decide! Secondly, tomorrow is going to be the last update for a very long time due to the holidays. I might update a couple time during it, but it's unlikely. I wanted to finish **_**before**_** the holidays, but that didn't work…**

**Couldn't reply to your review, Sahbilu, but thanks for your review and I hope the next twists are more to your liking **

**Really not a long chapter. I wish it were longer, but… unfortunately… it's not. It's really not. But it does end on a lovely cliffy. Do you expect anything less from me? Any who, Enjoy!**

**Please review! Good, bad, awesome, terrible. Please review!**

* * *

Present Day

Ethan Stuart Point of View

* * *

I've killed a total of eight people. Shawn will be my ninth. It is by far the most satisfactory. The first kill was the worst. I just kept telling myself it was necessary. He turned down the bank loan that would have saved my wife. So I killed him. Mr Saunderman. He was an awful man and deserved to die. So, one day at his work, I wrapped the rope around his neck and hung him. It was deemed a suicide. I actually cried after that.

The second killing was a man in Los Angeles. I killed him because I thought he was the witness. All I had to go on was a description and I was convinced this guy was the one. After I killed him, I felt so awful. I actually ended up burying him. But then I learnt that that wasn't the witness. Then I found… I didn't really care that I killed an innocent man that had nothing to do with me. The next four were simply impulse kills. I saw someone that matched the description, and so I killed them.

Once the new reports came out saying The Hour Killer had returned, I knew I had had too much fun. So I went back to my usual job in Santa Barbara. It was then that I realised that Carl Jackson was the witness.

His murder was… very satisfactory.

After being crammed in a closet for what seemed like forever, I finally got out. The first thing I did was stab him. The look on his face when he realised he had lost the game of cat and mouse was truly a memory. Then I walked out, simple as that.

Next was Nathan Hayworth's killing. That was simply business. Easy as that. I walked into the station easily. They didn't really pay much notice to me. The looked at me, saw that I was Clovers' lawyer and didn't do much else. I walked into Hayworth's interrogation room, pulled out my gun and shot him. I wiped my prints off the gun and dropped it on the ground. I turned around and saw a new boy staring at me in horror. I just flashed him a smile and walked away.

I'm not sure what happened next. All I know is that as I was about to drive away, I saw the same boy sprinting past me and the blonde detective following him.

And that brings us to now.

The glass tipped over twenty seven minutes ago. It was a wonderful entertainment. He kept fidgeting and yelling out in pain. Whether it was due to the burning in his legs or because all the fidgeting caused the knives in his hand to make it worse, I'm not sure. Most likely both were the cause. Either way, it was entertaining.

But now, the pain seemed to be numbing. He wasn't yelling as much. Just groaning and the occasional bursts of movements. But also, on top of all this, the stupid psychic is _crying_. That brought a smile to my face. Just the thought that I was actually the cause of that.

All I want now is to hear him beg. I want him to look me in the eye and beg me to kill him. Anything to end the pain. After a lot of begging and pleading I'll finally pull out my gun and shoot him. I'll then send a letter to the wonderful people at the Santa Barbara Police Department explaining how my work is done. They'll have no idea who I am or where to start looking.

But then again… why the hell hasn't Shawn even started to beg yet? Just yelling. Did he think he was going to be saved? But that's absurd. There's no way they could know anything about this. Unless…

I walked over to where I put Shawn's phone. The only way for any of this to be possible is if he sent a message to his little friends. Why didn't I check this sooner?

Seven missed calls and three texts. And there it was. He sent a message to Buzz McNabb with my phone number on it.

I remembered what he said when I first found him earlier today. _"I knew it was you"_ he had said right before I knocked him out.

Shawn was a lot smarter than I thought he was. He knew he had to leave in order to save his friends. He knew I'd be watching them. So, he sent a message to the one person I was not keeping tabs on.

"When the hell did you have the time to send a message to that idiot cop?" I asked Shawn. Somehow, through the pain he was obviously in, he managed to smile at me.

"Just after-" he said hesitantly, cutting himself off with a painful groan. "I left" he finished with a weak laugh. I clenched my hands into fists and before I could stop myself I punched him. "How?! How the hell did you manage to do this?! Again?!" it was just like this sixteen years ago. He pulled out his phone and now the cops are on my tail.

I started pacing the whole room. Shawn just sat their groaning and moaning. What was I supposed to do? The cops will be here any minute and when they do come, I need a way out. I can no longer just walk on out. They know who I am. They can just look me up. They probably have.

And there they are. Just outside the window, the familiar car approaching the building. Great, they found me.

"P…panicking?" Shawn asked me, still with a smile on his face. I walked up to him, unsure of what I'd do next. I'm pissed. That's all I know. Then, I found my hand around one of knives in his hand. I shot him a smile before yanking it out of his hand. He yelled out in pain once again.

"Just like old times" I said with a grin. He just stared at me confused until I brought down my knife and stabbed him in the gut. Shawn just gasped in shock. No screams or yells or anything of the sort. "Pity. I really wanted to see you die."

I was just about to head towards the window and down the fire escape when the front door was kicked in. There really is no backing out now.

* * *

**Don't forget to vote! Lassie's or Chief's POV next? You decide!**


	26. More Than Welcome

**Hello lovelys! Lassie's Point of View won. By quite a lot too. But I decided to ignore the vote and to do it in Chief's Point of View anyways. I decided literally half an hour into writing this chapter that I wanted it to be in a different Point of View. But there will be a Lassie Point of View chapter coming up, so don't you worry. There is method to my madness.**

**I'm afraid you might be disappointed in this chapter… because it appears you all think that something is going to happen this chapter, but in fact it won't. You'll see. I tried to make it longer, seeing as I have no idea when I'll next update. Anyways, try to Enjoy!**

**Reviews are very much appreciated and loved! So please, do review! I like them all, whether they are good, bad, long, short… any! Please do review!**

* * *

Present Day

Karen Vick POV

* * *

Carlton Lassiter was putting on his pouty face, obviously having some sort of problem with the fact that I was behind the wheel. I don't care, though. I'm driving and that's that.

I do feel bad about not letting Juliet on the case. But, it's for the best. We need to follow protocol. We need to keep family and friends out of this case. We are dealing with a very wanted criminal who is now wanted for many murders. One of them could be Shawn's. As much as they may want to be included in this case, they must understand that they simply can't.

"What were you talking about?" Carlton asked me. He was clearly just trying to clear up the tension in the car. Either that or he was trying to get his mind off my driving.

"What do you mean?"

"You said O'Hara was being hormonal…" Am I really the only person who knows? I mean, Buzz told me, so I suppose I was a bit slow as well. But even Juliet stared at me in shock when I had mentioned it. It really seemed like not a single person was expecting it.

"She's pregnant" I explained. I tried to keep my focus on the road in front of me but still, I could notice Carlton's eyes practically popped out of his head.

"She's… with… Shawn?"

"Well, obviously, Detective!" I snapped at him.

"Oh man…" he said and just looked out the window.

It truly was such a sad case. Juliet was pregnant. And now, the father might be dead. Whether or not Juliet would keep the baby, I'm not sure. She doesn't seem like the type of person that would go for an abortion. And even if she did have the baby, she'd have to look into the baby's eyes and realise that the reason those eyes look so familiar is because it belonged to Shawn Spencer. She wouldn't be able to live with that. She would have to give the baby up for adoption. This whole baby thing makes this situation so much more difficult than it should be.

But, then again, why am I being so pessimistic?

Maybe, just maybe, Shawn lives. In which case a baby would be the happiest thing. Maybe the two of them would get married. Maybe they would just decide to have the baby instead. Either way, I'm sure they would have a beautiful baby together.

Assuming, of course, that Shawn lives.

* * *

When we arrived at the police department in Los Angeles, we expected a lot more… help. They just quickly showed us their main leads and told us to go follow them. They're main lead was stupid. They had told us about Spencer's theory, to check all of Shawn's previous residencies first. That made sense. But no. The LAPD insist that we should inspect the bank first. Their reasoning? They believe that the suicide of Mr Saunderman was in fact a murder at the hands of Ethan Stuart.

"You are being ridiculous!" Carlton yelled at Detective Charles Baxter. "For one thing, why send _both_ the Santa Barbara Police Department _and_ your crew to the _same_ place?! And second of all, your lead is stupid!"

"Great point" I said sarcastically. They both ignored me.

"Detective Lassiter, I told you before, while in Los Angeles, you will follow the rules of the Los Angeles Police Department, not your own. We have our leads. We are going to follow them. You can either join us, or go home."

"This is just a mistake" I argued. "We should split up. You go to the bank, and Carlton and I will follow our own leads. Why is that so impossible?"

"I want to keep you under my supervision."

"You… what?" Carlton yelled.

"After that stunt your police officer from this morning did, playing tricks with a _junior_ detective, I'm not sure how much I can trust you anymore."

"What trick?" I asked.

"He tricked Gurley into handing over his son's records. It's supposed to be confidential. If that's how you train your police officers to obtain information, then I don't want to leave you in my town alone."

"That was Spencer" Carlton said. "Don't you compare us to him-"

"You must understand, Detective Baxter" I said quickly cutting Carlton off before he made things worst. "This is involving his son. He'd do anything for him. Even break protocol. That's why I had to take him off the case. As for Carlton and I, you can trust us. Trust that we will follow any direction you give us and never break protocol. We are very professional and understand the consequences."

"Yes, and you two are good friends with this Shawn. If you ask me, none of you should be involved in this case. You can't have emotional attachment. It just hinders your ability to do your job. Now we're going to the bank to investigate. If you have a problem with that, you can just get out of here. There will be no more discussion on it. The more time we argue, the less we have to find Stuart."

That was just their problem. They only cared about finding Ethan Stuart. I mean, yes. It's important to catch the criminal, to put him behind bars. To testify against him, to find him guilty and watch as he gets put into jail and earn the punishment he deserved. Yes, that's important. But so is Shawn. Finding him alive. Without any permanent injuries.

"But-"

"Look, we want to find The Hour Killer just as much as you do. He's caused a lot of damage in this city and we want to see him behind bars. Now if we could all just work together, we could find him a lot faster."

"You're wrong" Carlton said, glaring like I had never seen him do before. "I don't want to find The Hour Killer. I don't care about him right now. What I care about is that a very good detective from our department has been taken and could be dead this very second. We could split up and find him faster, but instead we're wasting time at a place that we know will lead us nowhere." Baxter walked up to him and looked him in the eyes.

"This is the problem with Santa Barbara. You're far too attached. Far too distracted you don't even see the obvious. That's how Ethan Stuart was able to get in and out without being noticed. That's what made you all such an easy target. Now if you excuse me, I have a job to do. You are more than welcome to come and watch."

And with that, Baxter left to the bank. What could Carlton and I do other than follow him?

* * *

The bank was closed. As it usually is at midnight. But Baxter had a key and so we were easily let in. He wasn't joking before. All Carlton and I were allowed to do was stand there and watch him investigate. Every time we tried, he'd just glare at us for trying to do his job. If we never find Shawn again, it'll be his fault. And I'll never forgive him. If Shawn's in this bank, I will be forever grateful.

"Have you accepted this is a dead end yet?" Carlton asked, staring down at his watch.

"It's not a dead end…" Baxter said, more trying to convince himself rather than Carlton and I. We just rolled our eyes stared back down at our watches. The more time we spent at this dead end the less time we had to actually find Shawn.

RING RING

Carlton pulled out his phone and stared at the screen.

"It's O'Hara" he explained

"Put it on speaker" I ordered.

"O'Hara?" Carlton answered the phone.

'Carlton, we got him. Sort of. The Hour Killer- Ethan Stuart. He's driving a black Nissan with the license plate RE09XBQ. He just left Shawn's old apartment, heading South.' Carlton and I exchanged glances.

"Juliet, that's oddly specific" I said. "Where are you getting this information from?" silence on the other end.

"You're there, aren't you?" Carlton asked. "You're at his old apartment."

'Yes' Juliet answered. I shot a glare at Baxter. We were right. He messed up.

"And Stuart? Where's Stuart?"

'He got away. But you can still catch him. Black Nissan, RE09XBQ.'

"Why the hell didn't you chase after him?"

A very loud hair rising scream on the other end of the phone quickly answered that question. It was clearly Shawn's. For the moment, he was alive. I had to focus on that.

"On it, O'Hara" Carlton hung up his phone and ran towards his car, already calling up people in the LAPD to trace the license plate. I turned to Baxter with more rage than I have felt in a very long time.

"Now, Chief Vick-"

"This is your fault" I said with as much hate and anger as I could manage. "If Shawn ends up dead, it's your fault."

"Vick, your detective broke protocol. She was to remain in Santa Barbara. She had no right to come up to Los Angeles. She is breaking protocol and could be charged-"

"Protocol? To hell with protocol!" I yelled at him. "Shawn Spencer is in a lot of pain and my detective is the only person who can actually save him. If it weren't for her, he could be dead. I'm glad I told her to stay in Santa Barbara. If I had let her come with us, she would be stuck in this dead end as well. She followed her instincts and actually _found_ the killer, something you still have to do. See, _that's _the difference between Santa Barbara and Los Angeles. If Shawn Spencer dies, it'll be your fault. And I'll see to it that you get fired immediately. Someone as dim-witted and closed minded as you should never have been allowed on the force."

I walked towards Carlton's car, where the detective was already waiting for me. I, of course, am now in the passenger seat. I looked back to see Baxter still staring at me cluelessly.

"Hey, wait!" he called out, finally remembering where he was and what had happened. "Where the hell are you going?!"

"To catch The Hour Killer" I told him calmly. "You are more than welcome to come and watch."


	27. Found

**Hello lovelys! I didn't think I'd be able to update over the holidays, but clearly I am. Well, to be honest… I'm really only updating because I had an entire plane ride to write this chapter. Otherwise I wouldn't have been able to. Just though I'd give you a little update on Shawn before I'm gone for about two weeks. **

**I don't have much to say about this particular chapter. So Enjoy!**

**Reviews are always very much appreciated and loved so please do review! Good, bad, long, short, grammar corrections, death threats (preferably not the last one... but you get what I mean) but do review!**

* * *

Present Day

Burton Guster POV

* * *

Somehow… I'm not entirely sure how, but somehow Mr Spencer found his way to the driver's seat before either Juliet or I did. Juliet argued that since she had the keys she should drive. Mr Spencer's counterargument was that she was a woman and pregnant and shouldn't drive. She didn't want to argue, so she handed over the keys and sat in the front seat.

Henry Spencer's driving terrified me. More so than Juliet's. We both hung on to dear life as he drove quickly through every red light, narrowly avoiding every car that came our way. It was good driving, very controlled. Just… terrifying.

"Next time I'm driving" I tried to say forcefully but it turned into more of a suggestion.

"If you drive, we'll arrive in Los Angeles _tomorrow_. Now shut up and sit tight" Mr Spencer argued.

How the hell can I just 'Shut up and sit tight' in a time like this? My best friend could be dead. The last time I saw him could have been an argument. The last words I would have heard him say was 'Out'. Then there would be the funeral. Oh God, the last time I even _considered_ holding a funeral for Shawn was in 1996. And now, 16 years later, not much has changed. Not much at all. Shawn went mysteriously missing leaving a note behind and the same person was behind it. How could that happen?

But, I have to remain optimistic. That's what Shawn always tells me. 'Peter Panic' he called me. So, let's look at this optimistically. Shawn is alive. Optimistically, he is just slightly hurt. But something tells me the later we find him, the less chance he has for survival.

"So what's your lead?" Juliet asked at last, finally breaking the tension.

"The junior detective at the crash site may have been gullible and dim, but he actually gave us this lead. He thinks that The Hour Killer may have taken Shawn to a place that he used to live in. We were going to start from the very beginning, his friend's house. He lived there for three months before moving into a different apartment."

"Where did he live? What apartment?" Juliet asked. I just handed her a file and she looked through it quickly.

"Forget the friend's house" Juliet said. "This apartment building has been abandoned for a very long time. In fact, if I remember correctly, this apartment is actually scheduled for demolition. It seems like the perfect place to hide, doesn't it?"

"How do you know all this?" I asked.

"Well…" she said awkwardly, afraid to carry on. "I looked Shawn up. As soon as I heard that he had a criminal record, I wanted to see what else he may have been hiding from me. I saw this as his last known address before moving to Santa Barbara, though it didn't say when he lived there. I found that odd so I did a bit more investigating on the place and saw that it was scheduled for demolition. I thought nothing of it at the time, but it seems like that's the best place to start looking."

"Are you sure about this?" I asked.

"85% sure."

"Alright…" Mr Spencer said. "We'll start there."

* * *

We pulled into the old apartment block. And… it was a dump. Literally. No one was in sight, just trash and waste and… a black Nissan? I quickly took out my phone and snapped a picture of the license plate. Something tells me we might need it.

Mr Spencer and Juliet were already in the building and up a couple flights of stairs when I finally entered the apartment as well. They each had a gun in hand and were pushing in doors on every floor. It didn't matter anyways. This building was going to be destroyed. Who cares if a couple doors are kicked in? Right now, all we care about is-

My train of thought was quickly and rudely interrupted by a very loud yell in pain. The three of us exchanged a quick look before racing up the stairs to the source of this scream. We finally got to the room and kicked in the door. Juliet held her gun up and pointed it directly at Ethan Stuart's head.

This confirms everything. Ethan Stuart was The Hour Killer. It was official now.

All I could focus on, though, was Shawn. He had dried blood on his face, it had dripped down from his cheek to his chin. His nose was freshly bleeding. His hands were… hell. The left hand had a knife sticking out of it and the right one was just covered in blood. I quickly searched Shawn, trying to find the second knife. There must have been a second knife. And, there it was. In his gut. I looked at Shawn's face to see his eyes were wide and his jaw was just hanging. He was hardly breathing at all.

This sight on any other occasion would have made me sick. I would have had to run out of the room holding in my puke. But this time, it was Shawn we were dealing with. All the feelings of sickness were gone and all I could actually think about was the pain Shawn must be in. He must be in pure agony. He's dying.

"Well, well" Ethan Stuart said. "Congratulations. You've caught The Hour Killer" he then brought his hands together and did a sarcastic clap for us. "Stupid name by the way. Couldn't have come up with anything a bit more… vicious? Nono, I suppose not. After all, one of the most wanted men in California is just in your grasp, and who do they send in after me? The blonde, the bald and the black." Ethan took a step towards Shawn and Juliet quickly turned her safety off.

"Don't you move a muscle. Don't you touch him" she hissed at him.

"Oh, but things are only just getting interesting. See, now you have a choice to make." He grabbed a good hold on the knife in Shawn's stomach and started to push it in deeper before finally yanking it out. Shawn let out a small groan in pain as he did so. "You can either chase me or take your little psychic to the hospital. The choice is yours." Ethan lightly slapped Shawn on his face twice as a goodbye before running towards the window.

BANG

Juliet shot at Ethan hitting him in the shoulder. He hesitated for just a moment, letting out a small yell in pain. Then, he shot a smile back at us and jumped out the window and ran down the fire escape. Juliet at first ran after him, shooting after him again. But there was no point. By the time she had a good enough shot, Ethan was already in his car driving away.

"I'm calling Carlton" she said quickly. She pulled out her phone and punched in the numbers. I quickly handed her my phone with the picture of Ethan's car and license plate. She then went off into one of the corners of the room and quickly told Lassiter everything.

"I'm going to call an ambulance" Mr Spencer said and he walked off into the other corner. I quickly ran up to Shawn, untying him.

"Hey Shawn" I greeted him. It had been the first time I had spoken in a very long time. Why did it have to be about something so… awful?

"G…Gus?"

"Yeah. It's me. How you feeling buddy?" stupid question. Of course he's in a lot of pain. But what else am I supposed to ask?

"Not gonna lie… L-lotta pain." I finally finished untying him. But he didn't move. Every muscle stayed exactly where it was. I'm not sure if it was because he just couldn't feel them anymore, or he didn't have the will to move them or if he was just afraid that if he did move it, he would be in pain again.

"Where does it hurt most?" I asked. Stupid question. He's been stabbed. Obviously it's his gut-

"My legs" Shawn spat out. I'm sorry, what? They looked fine… "They're b-_burning_." I didn't know what to do. My hands just automatically flew to his legs, trying to do whatever I could. As soon as he saw what I was doing, he quickly and riskily leaned forward to try and stop me. "No don't touch-" he threw his head back and yelled out in pain. I quickly jumped back, moving my hands away from his legs. I shouldn't have touched him.

Juliet and Mr Spencer turned around to look at me. Juliet quickly hung up her phone and ran towards us.

"What's wrong? What happened?"

"I don't…" and suddenly, I felt my hands were starting to burn as well. Not quite as bad as what Shawn must be going through. It was a very familiar pain though…

And then I remembered.

All those years in college at the lab. Doing experiments for chemistry, I've come across very strong acids before. That's what this burning was. I had only just brushed Shawn's pants and I was already in pain. Shawn must have had the whole thing poured on him.

"Acid" I whispered. I quickly wiped my hands on my jeans. It didn't make the pain go away, but honestly, I don't care. We are dealing with Shawn at the moment, not me. He is in much more need of medical attention than I am. Far more. Juliet just stared at me in horror. "That's acid on his legs." Juliet opened her mouth to say something but instead walked over to Shawn.

"Shawn?" he heard her voice and then slowly and carefully pried his eyes open just to see her.

"J…Jules?" she smiled at him and then held his free hand softly.

"Hey" she said softly.

"I'm s-sorry, Jules" she stared at him in horror. Those better not be his last words. "I should've toldya sooner…" Juliet just shook her head.

"Don't worry about a thing, Shawn. Just think about making it at least until the ambulance arrive. Once you're in the hospital and on your way to recovery, then we'll talk. I have the most wonderful news for you."

"W-what news?"

"You'll just have to wait and see." To all of our relief, Shawn managed a small, barely visible smile.

"Now that's… motivation…"

"The ambulance is on their way" Henry said, finally joining us. "They were fairly nearby when I first called so they shouldn't be long." We then all turned to Shawn. "Why is the knife still in his hand?" he asked me.

"If we take it out he'll be in enormous pain. Not to mention the amount of blood loss he'll have…"

"But it's hurting him now-"

"It'll hurt more if we take it out" I assured him. Mr Spencer admitted defeat and walked to his son's side.

"Hey, Papa Bear" Shawn said with his new found strength.

"Hang in there, okay?" Mr Spencer said to him.

"Not exactly g-goin' anywhere." Shawn's breathing was starting to worry me. Just the smallest sentence would cause him incredible difficulty. Just breathing was becoming a difficulty for him. It would only be short, quick, painful breaths. Then, his breathing started slow down and his eyes started to droop.

"Don't you dare" Mr Spencer practically yelled at him. "Don't you _dare_ close your eyes. You keep them open until the ambulance get here, got it?!" It was clear Shawn was trying to speak, but nothing would come out anymore. So instead, he just tried his best to give us a reassuring smile. It wasn't very reassuring. It was just painful to watch.

And then finally, a sound that was like music to our ears. The sirens of an ambulance approached the building.


	28. My Final Victory

**Hello lovelys! I managed to upload again this Holiday, so YAY! Next update will definitely be up by the 7****th****. Maybe the 6****th****. No sooner.**

**Could someone also explain the difference between "who's" and "whose"? Even my word doc couldn't make up its minds. (One sentence I wrote 'Whose' initially. Word underlined it in blue and changed it to 'Who's'. Then, as soon as it changed, it underlined it in green and changed it back to 'Whose'. Repeat cycle about ten times before I finally just gave up on it.)**

**Review! Reviews are always very much loved and always appreciated so please tell me what you think. Even if you thought it was rubbish.**

**Trying to keep this Author's Note short, so Enjoy!**

* * *

Present Day

Carlton Lassiter POV

* * *

I was speeding through traffic. I tried to ignore the thrill and the excitement of this chase but… I simply couldn't. I know Psychic Spencer is in danger and I know I'm chasing the person who killed so many and I know how serious this all is. I should be professional… but there's just something about a car chase that just gets my heart pumping.

Junior Detective Harold Gurley was on the phone with the chief. He was tracking Ethan Stuart's license plate and guiding us to follow him. Even though my lights were flashing, hardly any cars were making way for me. It's like they've never seen a police car before! And, believe me, if it were anybody other than the chief sitting in the passenger seat, there would be a lot of colourful language and rude gestures throughout this entire car ride.

Then, a car screeched in front of us causing me to slam on my brakes.

"Move out of the way you son of a-" I started.

"CARLTON!" The chief screamed at me.

"Sorry" I replied automatically, taking in a deep breath to calm myself.

"No, look!" she said pointing at the car's license plate. RE09XBQ.

"Well, I'll be damned…"

We followed the car but soon enough, we were out of traffic, out on an old abandoned road and the black Nissan had come to a stop. The chief and I exchanged an odd look. It did not seem at all likely that a brilliant criminal like The Hour Killer would just give himself up like this. No car chase? No leaping valiantly into a river? Something was wrong here.

The chief and I exited out car, gun in hand. We slowly and carefully approached the driver seat. In one swift motion, both the chief and I were pointing our guns to the driver. Who was not Ethan Stuart.

"Woah! Please! Don't shoot!" the driver yelled. "I mean, I think I was speeding back there, but surely that just means I get fined! Not killed!"

"Shut up!" I yelled.

"You do realise you're in a car that belonged to The Hour Killer, right?" the chief asked. The man looked at her in horror.

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to step out of the vehicle" I said. The man did as told. The chief started to search the car. She searched the trunk, the back seat and even the hood of the car. It was clean. Of everything. Not just of The Hour Killer but also of any type of weapons or anything. Was O'Hara mistaken? One look at the chief and I knew she was thinking the same thing.

"Is this your car?" she asked the man.

"No…" he admitted. "I… I was having car trouble. I couldn't get it to work. So this man came up to me and offered me his car."

"And you took him up on this offer?" the chief asked.

"Well… yes. I needed to get home and my car wouldn't start."

"What did he look like?" I asked.

"Tall, brown hair, brown eyes… very odd scar."

"Stuart didn't have a scar" Chief said.

"But the Hour Killer did…"

"The scar was fake" Chief deduced.

"As were the tattoos. Makes it impossible to identify him with the witness description because… that wasn't his actual description."

"But why now? Why even bother putting on the scar now?"

"To let us know he got away."

Almost as if by fate, an LAPD car approached us. Out came Detective Charles Baxter and Junior Detective Harold Gurley. We explained very quickly our situation. How once again The Hour Killer outsmarted us. How once again, he got away. How once again, the families of the victims won't be able to look into Stuarts eyes, knowing that he was responsible for their pain. Once again, Ethan Stuart is living his life as a free man.

"This is just like last time" Baxter said glumly. I nodded in agreement. Then the chief looked up with inspiration.

"You're right! It's exactly like last time!" she said enthusiastically. We just stared at her. "Every little detail! He committed a crime, and there were witnesses. The same witnesses as 16 years ago. Shawn, just like last time, received the worst of all three witnesses. And _again_, the police had to make a choice between chasing him and saving the witnesses. He _knows _that we will always save the witness!"

"So? What are you suggesting?" I asked.

"So! Where did Stuart go after the bank robbery in '96?"

"Several eye witnesses reported that he was at his wife's funeral" Gurley answered. The chief looked at me with a smile on her face. And then it clicked. Of course! It was _exactly _the same as last time!

"Was his wife buried in Los Angeles?" I asked.

"Yeah. Not too far from here- Oh my God!" it clicked with Baxter too. I slammed my hand on the Nissan.

"Let's go!" I ordered. Chief and I ran to my car – I made sure to get into the driver's seat first. Baxter yelled orders at Gurley before running into his own car and driving off alone. The Junior detective then asked the man to step inside the Nissan and he drove them away. Clearly, the man was going to be questioned. Give a statement. Something of the sort.

I then followed Baxter's car, lights flashing skipping through traffic.

* * *

We arrived at a cemetery... depressing little place. But, no time to criticise the mood of this place. I have things to do and they have a good enough excuse. What with everyone being dead here. The chief, Baxter and I ran along the path, looking desperately for either a man sulking over a grave or simply the actual grave of his wife. Not a very easy task to do in pitch black darkness.

Just as we were going to give up hope, Baxter pointed us into a certain direction. We could only just make it out. The outline of a man, standing by a grave. There was no other man in sight, especially not at this hour, so we went with the assumption that this is in fact Ethan Stuart.

The three of us surrounded the man, gun at the ready. Finally, we turned on our flashlights so we could see the man clearly. Relief: it's Ethan Stuart. We didn't stop the wrong man again. Annoyance: he's smiling. Why the hell would he be smiling?!

"Ethan Stuart" I said proudly. "You are under arrest for the murder of Carl Jackson and Nathan Hayworth, the attempted murder of Shawn Spencer and the bank robbery in 1996. You have the right to remain-" he laughed. Why is he laughing?

"Is that all, detective? Is that all you can pin on me?" he then flashed me a smile.

"For now."

"Well, let me just speed along the process and confess" Stuart said. "I murdered Saunderman. But, you thought that was suicide, didn't you? silly detectives. He denied the loan. He's the reason she's dead" Stuart gestured towards the grave stone in front of him. He took a brief pause to mourn his wife, but then continued. "I murdered Wayne Macaulay, David Fermin, Harry Connolley, Roger Cook and Nicholas Griffith. But you didn't even know their names, did you? At least I remember. I murdered Carl Jackson and Nathan Hayworth. You were right about that. The bank robbery in 1996 is a given. So I won't congratulate you on that. As for the attempted murder of Shawn Spencer… I doubt it'll be attempted. I was very thorough." I had to fight every urge to shoot him. How could he sound so _proud_?

"That doesn't change the fact that you are under arrest." Baxter said.

"No. But this should." He pulled out a gun. The three of us tightened our grip on our guns and pointed it directly at his head. Finally. An excuse to shoot him.

"Put down your weapon!" I yelled at him. He shot me a smile before pointing it at his own head. Simultaneously, the chief, Baxter and I lowered our weapons.

"Ah. Now that's what I like to see" Stuart said. "Just a second ago you were willing to shoot me. And now, here you are. About to bargain for my life. Tell me why that is. I'm just _dying_ to know."

"You don't deserve to die" I said, after a very long moment of silence. "You deserve far worst. You deserve to rot in prison. The families of everyone you hurt deserve to look you in the eye and know that you're getting what you deserve. Shawn deserves to be able to see you behind bars. None of that happen if you die right here." Stuart smiled at me.

"There's something more. You want to catch me. You want to be the one who catches The Hour Killer. And you see, detective… this is my final victory."

"No…" Chief whispered.

"I trust that if Shawn somehow _miraculously _survives, you will tell him that it was _his_ gun that killed me. Goodbye detectives."

BANG

Ethan Stuart is dead. The Hour Killer is dead. I should be happy. He's dead! There will be no more deaths because of him. California is that much safer now that he's dead. And yet… he was right. It was his final victory. And worse than that, all I can think about is that it was Spencer's gun! Why did he have a gun? Where did he even get it from?

"Was that really Spencer's gun?" I found myself asking.

"I don't know" Baxter said.

"Well find out!" I yelled at him. "Dust for prints, look up Shawn's shopping history! Do something!"

"There's no point!" Baxter yelled back. "The Hour Killer is dead. He can't hurt anyone anymore. Does it really matter whose gun killed him?"

"Listen to me you incompetent fool. Shawn Spencer is a good friend of mine and an even better detective. He can do many things but one thing he cannot do is cope with death. No matter who's it is. If he were to find out that it was _his_ _own_ gun that killed someone, he would never be able to live with himself. So yes, it really _does_ matter. Now would you stop being so stupid and just do as I say?" The Chief and Baxter both started at me for a while. Until, at last, Baxter admitted defeat and pulled out his phone.

"I'll get Gurley and forensics over here" he said. "You can go and be with your… friend." I nodded in approval and then walked towards the car. The Chief stared me for a while before finally deciding to follow me. She climbed into the passenger seat, fully accepting that I would be driving.

"Good friend of yours, huh?" she asked when we were in the car.

"What are you on about?" I asked.

"Shawn Spencer. You said he was a good friend of yours."

"With all due respect, chief, what _have_ you been smoking? I said nothing of the sort."

* * *

The chief and I ran into the hospital. The first thing I noticed was the horrible look on Bigger Spencer's face. That can't be good. Guster doesn't look much better. He looks like he's about to be sick, actually. That can't be too good either, considering he only pukes when seeing a dead body or a horribly abused body. O'Hara was nowhere to be found.

"How's Shawn?" the chief asked Spencer.

"Don't know" he said grimly. "They won't tell me anything. They wouldn't even let me in the ambulance with him. I had to drive with Sir Pukes-A-Lot over here." We all looked at Gus. He shot us an apologetic look, but other than that did nothing but stare ahead of him in worry and shock.

"Where's O'Hara?" I asked.

"Cleaning the sick off of herself" Spencer replied. Again, Guster shot us an apologetic look. "She went that way" Spencer gestured towards a hallway. I walked where he gestured quickly. I don't really need anything from O'Hara. I just can't bear the look on Spencer's face.

By accident, completely by accident, I came across the last thing I wanted to see. I was walking down the hall, not being able to find any bathrooms. Suddenly, a door to my left burst open. A doctor and a nurse came rushing out. I couldn't help myself. I peered inside. It was him. Of course it was him. Just my luck.

Shawn Spencer was hooked up to about five different machines, all performing different tasks to keep him alive. That wasn't the worst part. There was blood all over his face and his body. They were working very hard trying to stitch it up, but judging from the response of the machines, it wasn't going very well. That wasn't the worst part. His hands were just a bloody mess. They weren't even focusing on it though. They were too busy with the gut wound to even start working on his hands, though there were bandages on it. Probably done by the paramedics. Fair enough, I think. Knife wound in the gut is a lot more deadly than a knife wound on hands. But that wasn't even the worst part. His legs were… just awful. His pants were off. All you could see was a horrible burn. It looked as if there was no skin left only… muscle. Just horrible burn marks all over his legs. But, believe it or not, that wasn't the worst part.

The worst part was that his eyes were closed, and the machines seemed to be showing less and less life signs. As time went on, each machine would give signals of more and more failures. Shawn Spencer was dying. At this current moment in time, the machines are literally the only things keeping him alive.

"Hey!" a doctor called out. I didn't dare move. "What the hell are you doing here? This is a restricted zone!"

"That is a detective-"

"Yes, and I'm a doctor. Get out of here."

"We work together-"

"I don't care. You can't be here! Just who do you think you are-"

"I am Carlton Lassiter, Head Detective of the Santa Barbara Police Department. I have the right to be here and watch over one of my detectives!"

"Well, I got news for you, Detective. This is Los Angeles. You don't have power here and even if you did, this is a _restricted_ area! Now, if you could please wait in the waiting rooms? We will tell you as soon as we get any information on your detective's condition." Suddenly, the beeping in the room stopped having a general rhythm and just became a steady, hair raising, ear-splitting, high pitched noise. "Now if you excuse me, I have an emergency to deal with." The doctor then ran into the room to take care of his patient.

He's right. I know he's right. But I can't help it… I need to see that Spencer is alright. He is a good detective and a good person. He doesn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve his pain or his suffering or any of the crap that anyone puts him through. Including me. If he doesn't survive this I… I don't… I couldn't even imagine what I'd do. To go back to life in Santa Barbara without him. He was a pain in the ass, yes, but also a damn good _person_. The fact that this happened to_ him_ of all people just… I can't.


	29. Never Leave Man Alone With His Thoughts

**Hello lovelys! I meant to say that I'd either update Saturday or Sunday but turns out I got my dates wrong. Anyways, here's an update! **

**Warning: I actually cried while writing this chapter. Maybe I'm just being emotional today, but it's true. I cried while writing it. So if you cry, you know... you can join the club... I hope you like this chapter. It's quite long, so enjoy!**

**Review! Please review! They are always very much welcome and very much loved. I do read all of them (in case you were wondering) and they all mean ever so much to me! So please review!**

* * *

Present Day  
Henry Spencer's Point Of View

* * *

When the sirens were finally within hearing distance… that was one of the happiest moments of my life. Finally, there was hope for my son again. Yes, right now his eyes were drooping. Yes, he is in a lot of pain. Possibly the most pain he's ever been in before. But, you know what else? The ambulance is literally a minute away from saving his life. If even that long.

Even though help was just around the corner, I couldn't help but feel so useless. Shawn was suffering, that much was obvious. And there was nothing I could do about it. If I could, I would switch places with him. I would be the one with holes in my hands. I would be the one with acid on my legs. I would be the one dying. But, I couldn't do that. All I could do was offer my hand for support and motivate him to keep his eyes open.

"Heeeyy Jacky" Shawn said. Those were the first words he had said in a long time and… they were just so wrong. Who was Jacky? Why was he even talking? Who is he talking to?

"Shawn?" I said worriedly.

"They say I won't live…" Gus, Juliet and I exchanged an odd glance.

"Who? Who said that?" I asked. Shawn just let out a small chuckle before coughing up more blood.

Then, we heard the paramedics running up the stairs. Juliet stood outside the door, guiding them straight to Shawn. They worked fairly quickly, which is good. They pushed Gus and me out of the way first. They practically kicked us out of the room. Gus barely had time to explain what exactly was wrong with Shawn. He explained quickly about the acid on his legs. The rest of his injuries were fairly obvious.

The paramedics worked almost together at an incredible pace. While one bandaged his gut, the other wrapped up his hands to prevent any more bleeding. At the same time, on paramedic was cutting off Shawn's jeans to reveal a burn like I had never seen before. The last one was trying to ease the knife out of Shawn's hand as painlessly as possible.

The screams never stopped. For as long as I live, Shawn's yells in pains will forever haunt my nightmares. He yelled when they wrapped the bandages around him. He yelled when they cut off his pants. But most of all, he yelled out in so much agony when they removed the knife from his hand. He was actually to the point where he was crying. And all I could do… all any of us could do, for that matter, was watch and wait.

It was bound to happen, really. With the amount of blood that he was losing, it was simply meant to happen. Shawn finally fell unconscious. At this point, every second counted. If we were lucky, all this would mean was surgery. Shawn was put on a stretcher and quickly moved to the ambulance parked just outside. I automatically started to climb in with Shawn. He was my son, after all. But no. apparently I'm not allowed. I was preparing myself to argue or intimidate them into letting me come on with him, but instead they just shook their heads and yelled out: "No time!"

I stared as the ambulance left with my son. How could they not let me on with him? I need to be with him! He's my son and he's dying!

A very familiar and very annoying blue car stopped just to the side of me. Juliet was behind the wheel and Gus was in the passenger seat. Reluctantly, I climbed into the back seat, realising I had no choice and no say in this arrangement.

"They wouldn't let you be with him?" Juliet asked angrily.

"No" I responded in the same tone. It was simply ridiculous that a father couldn't even be with his own son! Especially after something like this! All I want is to sit by him. But instead, they gave me the task of being completely and utterly useless.

"Well, we'll just meet them at the hospital" Juliet said, trying to resolve any anger I might feel towards them. It didn't really help. I turned away from the detective and focused my attention on something else. More like some_one_ else. Gus was starting to look truly awful. He looked as if he were holding back a scream… or a squeal… or something more to Gus' personality.

"Gus, are you feeling alright?" I just need a distraction right now.

"No…" he said weakly. Oh God. Shawn's horrible body and all the blood was finally catching up with him. He was going to hurl. Very soon.

"Hold it in, buddy" I tried reassuring him. "At least until we're at the hospital." Gus tried to nod. He turned his head towards Juliet with the intention to talk to her. Instead, he puked all over her.

* * *

We arrived at the hospital a little after the ambulance had arrived. The first thing we all did was run up to the reception desk, desperately asking for Shawn. They just apologised and motioned towards the waiting room. Shawn was in ER and going through surgery.

Juliet started to follow us, still wiping away the puke with a paper towel, when one of the nurses called her up.

"There's a shower in one of the bathrooms just down the hall, if you're interested" she said sweetly. Too sweetly. In a time like this the last thing any of us need is someone sweetly talking to us. Juliet seemed to feel the same way.

"Yes. thank you" she said through her teeth.

"I'll have one of the nurses bring in a fresh pair of scrubs" the nurse said again. Sweetly. As always.

"Thanks" Juliet said icily.

"No problem, Hun" the nurse said again. I saw the detective's eye twitch before walking into the bathroom.

God, how I hate this room. I hate sitting here, twiddling my thumbs, spending all my energy on a single hope that my son is still alive. I hate sitting here, feeling completely useless. I hate sitting here with my son's best friend, knowing exactly what he was going through because, hell, I'm going through the same thing. I hate sitting here knowing that I had never even told my own son that I loved him. I hate it here. I hate it.

About half an hour later, Detective Lassiter and the Chief walked into the hospital. They both looked around for a bit before finally noticing Gus and I. Lassiter looked directly at me, no doubt trying to understand why I looked like death. Is it really that hard to figure out? They hurried toward us, desperate to know how their little psychic was doing.

"How's Shawn?" the chief asked..

"Don't know" I said. I wanted to show how angry I was but honestly, it just turned into a sob. "They won't tell me anything. They wouldn't even let me in the ambulance with him. I had to drive with Sir Pukes-A-Lot over here." The two of them looked over at Gus. He just sat their sheepishly and threw them an apologetic look.

"Where's O'Hara?" Lassiter asked.

"Cleaning the sick off of herself" I replied. Again, Gus threw them an apologetic look. "She went that way" I gestured into the direction that I had last seen Juliet walk off to. Once he left I finally asked. "What happened to Stuart?" The chief sighed.

"He shot himself. Saying it was his final victory. Which reminds me, does Shawn own a gun?"

"Are you kidding? The only time Shawn would ever agree to _touch_ a gun is if he was shooting at a target or some inanimate object."

"I know. It just doesn't make sense…" I didn't want to ask. I didn't want to know. I could assume what she was talking about, but I don't want to.

The Chief then sat next to Gus and me.

"I know you don't want to talk about this right now but… "

"You want our statements" I finished the chief's sentence. She nodded.

"Better now when it's still fresh in your memories then later-"

"Chief, I honestly don't think I'll ever forget what I just walked into. So please, for now, can we just wait?" The chief reluctantly nodded and turned away.

Then it was silence.

Around fifteen minutes later, the chief's phone rang. She stood up and walked to a more private area of the waiting room. Then she returned saying something about checking up on her detectives. A little while later, the chief returned. Lassiter and Juliet – who was now in blue scrubs – followed behind her. They weren't talking to each other. They must have gotten into an argument or something. Maybe it's about Shawn. I don't know. I don't care, really. There's only one thing I care about and he's currently in surgery.

It's 1:45 am.

No news.

2:53 am.

No news. Gus fell asleep.

3:41 am.

No news. Lassiter fell asleep and Juliet started pacing around.

4:49 am.

Chief and Juliet fell asleep at last. Gus woke up. Needing a distraction he pulled out a pen and drew a moustache on Lassiter's face. This then caused the detective to wake up and yell at Gus for a while before he stormed off to the bathroom to wash it off. Gus and I exchanged a look before letting out the smallest of chuckles. It was entertaining and a very much needed distraction.

No news.

5:56 am.

Gus and Lassiter fell back asleep.

The doctors walked up to me. I debated waking the others up but decided against it. I wanted to be alone when I hear the news. Good or bad.

"Mr Spencer?" he asked. I stood up and he escorted me to a more private area of the waiting room. I braced myself for the worst. "I'm Doctor Jenkins. I was your son's doctor-"

"Yeah, yeah. I assumed. Get on with it." I did feel a little bad for the way I was talking to him. Especially since he was being so understanding about it. I probably wasn't the only parent to react this way when their son was in the hospital I'd apologise later. Maybe.

"We lost your son three times on the operating table. He had lost a lot of blood by the time we had got there. Not to mention the acid burns on his legs. It was a very strong acid and if we had gotten there sooner it wouldn't have been a very big problem. Easily solved really. We did-"

"Would you just cut the crap and tell me whether or not my son is alive!" I finally snapped at him. The doctor just smiled at me.

"He's alive." I nearly collapsed in pure relief. The whole sleepless night was finally catching up to me and I could feel my body just trying to shut down. "He's going to have permanent scars on his legs. Whether or not that will cause him to lose his ability to walk is still unknown. The knife wound in his gut luckily missed any vital organs. He does also have two broken ribs and a fractured knee cap; we're assuming that was from his motorcycle crash. As for his hands, they've been heavily bandaged and sewn shut. Mentally, I'm not quite sure how he'll do. When he first arrived here he was a bit delusional. He kept talking to some guy named 'Jacky'. Now all we can do is wait and see how he progresses."

"Can… can I see him?" I asked. Doctor Jenkins just stared at me.

"I wouldn't suggest it. Shawn is currently resting and asleep. He shouldn't wake up for at least another ten hours. And you look as if you haven't slept all night. I think it'd be best for you and your son if you just took a break and-"

"I just want to see my son" I said determined.

"I understand that. But I still strongly suggest to rest before seeing him. You look like you need it just as much as your son does." He's a doctor. I should listen to him. I should… and I am truly exhausted.

"Will you…"

"I promise to wake you if he even stirs" Doctor Jenkins said. I slowly nodded and turned back to the group of friends waiting for me. I don't know how, but they were all awake now. As if they knew I had just received some news. I walked back to them feeling unusually happy. And I told them the good news.

Shawn is alive.

* * *

10:26 am.

I had slept a grand total of four hours and three minutes. When I did wake up, I was extremely infuriated to find that I was alone in the waiting room. I stormed off towards the reception, asking if they had seen any of the detectives. She gestured towards the cafeteria and immediately I felt a little guilty for over reacting. Oh well. They didn't know I over reacted. No one did.

I walked into the cafeteria immediately spotting Gus. He was smiling, holding a cup of coffee. The chief and Lassiter were in line for a coffee and Juliet was still in the blue scrubs, meaning she hasn't left the hospital yet. None of them have. They stayed here all night. I walked up to Juliet and Gus and sat down next to them.

"I'm going to go see Shawn" I announced.

"Mr Spencer, we already went to check up on him. He's still sound asleep" Juliet said.

"Why did no one wake me up?" I asked, almost mad.

"You hardly slept at all, last night" Gus said.

"Besides, this was only like ten minutes ago. We figured you'd still be out for a while" Juliet added on.

"What room is he in?"

"Mr Spencer, eat something before you go. Drink some coffee. I mean, when was the last time you actually ate. You must be-"

"Just tell me what room he's in" I snapped at her. She looked taken back, but answered none the less.

"Room 314." I nodded my head at her and then started to leave. But then quickly, I turned back towards them seeing that the chief and Lassiter had joined them.

"By the way, do any of you happen to know who the hell Jacky is?" I asked.

"No… but the doctor did say that he was asking for him…" Lassiter said, much to all of our surprise. Was Lassiter actually checking up on Shawn? I just nodded.

We'd find out soon enough anyways.

* * *

It's so unnatural. Shawn was so quiet. Granted, he's asleep. But still… he looks dead. If it weren't for the monitor that beeped at a very steady and very comforting rhythm, I would be convinced that he _was_ dead. He just looked so broken. There were bandages everywhere. Hands, stomach, legs. But worst of all Stuart actually left something behind so Shawn would never actually forget him.

A scar. From his eye to his chin.

True, Stuart never actually had the scar. It was a fake. But still, you say Hour Killer and you just imagine that scar. That very odd, unmistakable scar. Now, that same scar was on Shawn. He made sure that he'd ruin Shawn's life. Stuart did. The Hour Killer. The _bastard_. He wanted Shawn to be dead. But if for some miracle he survived – which he did – he wanted to make sure that Shawn's life wasn't even worth living anymore. What would that do to him? What would that do to Shawn? Every morning, every night, every day… whenever he looked into the mirror, he'd see it and he'd remember.

"Henry?" I suddenly found myself waking up. That's odd… when did I fall asleep?

"Lassiter" I answered groggily. I looked back at my son. He's still asleep. What time is it?

"It's three o'clock. You've been here for a while. And you still haven't eaten since yesterday" Lassiter said, hinting at something very obvious.

"I'm not leaving until he wakes up."

"With all due respect, Spencer, you're being an idiot" Lassiter said. I just stared at him. I don't remember Lassiter ever being so forward like this to me. "Take a five minute break and eat something. I doubt in this tiny break you take he'll wake up."

"You never know-"

"You can't stand by his side forever." Much to my embarrassment, my stomach started to growl. "Look, I'll stay here. The moment his eyes even start to pry open, I'll go and get you. For now, just go eat something." A very tempting offer. _Very_ tempting, actually.

"And you'll be here… with him?"

"As useless as it may be, yes. I will." I hesitated for a little while longer before finally walking out the door, muttering a very silent "thanks" as I did.

At the cafeteria, Juliet and Gus were sitting exactly where they were when I was last there. The chief was nowhere to be found. I suppose it made sense. She was chief of Santa Barbara Police Department. And we are in Los Angeles. Soon enough, Juliet and Lassiter would have to leave as well. They had a job to keep. Gus would leave once he was sure Shawn was feeling better, but still they all had jobs. And so does Shawn. I have to start thinking about transferring him back to Santa Barbara. How long until I could?

"Mr Spencer!" Juliet called out hopefully. Surely she thought that Shawn had woken up or something. I just shook my head and saw the hope drain from her eyes. How much longer could the detectives stay before they'd have to return?

I quickly bought a sandwich. The first one I could find, too. Egg salad on brown bread. Expires tomorrow. Not exactly the most… appetising of lunches, but I'll make do. All I have to do is shut my stomach up and then I can be with Shawn again. Finally when I finished, I quickly stood up. Still with a mouth full of that God awful sandwich, I started to leave the table and be with my son. Then I saw Lassiter actually running towards us. That can't be good.

"He woke up" he said quickly. This caused Gus and Juliet to jump to their feet as well. "He kept asking for Jacky. I asked him who the hell Jacky was and… well… Carl Jackson."

"But he's dead" Juliet said. We all stared at her. "Stating the obvious. Sorry."

"Does he know?" Gus asked.

"He didn't at first. But I guess he just saw the look on my face and sort of figured. He's starting to remember again. He's remembering that Hayworth is dead too, remembering what he went through and I… well I figured this would be best handled by you…"

"Chicken" I heard Juliet mutter.

"Let's go" I said, gesturing towards Gus and Juliet. I knew I shouldn't have left him.

Just as we were quickly walking towards room 314, Lassiter suddenly called out for Juliet. She angrily turned to face her partner.

"What?!" she hissed at him. "I want to see my boyfriend!"

"Look!" Lassiter said, gesturing towards a man running towards the receptionist.

"Adam Smith…" Juliet said barely above a whisper.

"Don't you find it odd that he turns up here, where the only survivor of The Hour Killer is?" Juliet kept glancing between Adam Smith and the hallway that ultimately led to Shawn. Once again, she had to choose between being professional and Shawn.

"But…"

"Look, if we interrogate him … we can extend our stay here in Los Angeles. Tell the chief that we're investigating Adam Smith. Then we can be here for Spencer more." This quickly brightened Juliet's mood.

"Come to think of it, there are a surprising amount of details that Smith knew about that were never released" Juliet said, suddenly on board. "Mr Spencer… will you-"

"I'll explain to him" I assured her. "He'll understand." I then almost ran towards my son.

"I'll give you a full update later" Gus said to her before running after me.

I was about to push in the door to Shawn's room when I noticed… Gus and I both peered into the small window that showed his room. Shawn was sitting up in his bed staring at the wall ahead of him. No tears, no tremors no… emotion. Nothing at all. And I thought seeing him unconscious was unnatural. Nono. I'd much rather see him asleep then like this. True, at least when he's conscious it's more obvious that he's alive. But still… it's so… off. I looked over at Gus only to see him backing away.

"Gus?"

"I… I can't do it…" he said, staring at his friend in horror. He can't be serious. "All those years ago, when Shawn showed up at my door… this is what I saw.

"Gus…"

"Every day for 7 months, _this_ is what I saw! I didn't know what to do half the time! I ended up just… letting him be. But I can't do it. Not again. I… I just can't…"

"Gus" I said a little more forcefully. He looked up and stared at me. "One thing you should know… never leave a man alone with his thoughts…" and with that, I finally pushed open the doors to be with my son.

It was awful. The doors slammed open. They actually hit the wall making a sound much bigger than what I wanted… and yet… Shawn just continued to stare at the wall. And I understood what Gus was talking about. The man before me was not Shawn. He was a very scared, very traumatised little boy. With good reasons.

"Shawn" I called out. Still no reaction.

"Where's Jacky?" he whispered. I thought… Didn't Lassiter say…

"Who?" that was my brilliant response.

"Carl Jackson. Where is he?" this is a trap. Obviously a trap. He wants to see if I'll tell him the truth. So tell him the truth. He deserves to know.

"He's… not here…"

"Is he okay?" should've just told him the truth. So tell him now. It's not too late.

"Yeah. He's fine." Dammit Henry!

"Liar" Shawn whispered. I told you it was a trap!

"Shawn…"

"Nathan's dead too. And Mr Saunderman. And those five guys in Los Angeles. Hell, I don't even remember their names… but they're all dead. All of them…" a moment of silence. I'm not entirely sure how to deal with this situation. There wasn't _blame_ in his voice. Or guilt. Maybe a bit of guilt, but he didn't think it was his fault. And that was the odd part. He's grieving. That must be it. I should just offer condolences, help him feel better.

"Shawn?" about a million things I could have said there and I chose to go with that. Brilliant.

"Why me?" and there it was. The question that every cop, every detective, every doctor hoped never to hear. Because it was just impossible to answer.

"Look, Ethan Stuart was I psychopath. There's no saying why he did the things he did. He was crazy. But things will get better, I promise. You're alive, and you need to focus on that-"

"That's exactly what I'm doing" he still hadn't stopped staring at the wall. Hadn't even blinked. Honestly, I'm starting to worry about him. and now I understood Gus' hesitation to enter the room. Lassiter's panic as he ran away.

"What do you mean?" then he finally looked at me. And now I wish he hadn't. He looked like death. No, that's a lie. To look like death would actually be an improvement. He looked like he was calling out to death, begging him to take him away. To ease him of his suffering. Not that I'd ever let that happen.

"Why me, dad? All those people he targeted, all those people he killed… they didn't deserve to die. And yet they did. So why do I get to live?"

"Shawn-"

"Let's start with those five guys in LA. That's all they were. 5 guys in LA! They had absolutely nothing to do with him! Nothing! And yet they had to die. They probably had families. They probably had people depending on them. And now they're gone. For no reason."

"Shawn-"

"Mr Saunderman was only doing his job when he denied the loan. That doesn't mean he should die! He didn't deserve to die. He just didn't. It wasn't even his fault that Stuart's wife got sick or that the insurance expired. And yet he died."

"Shawn-"

"Nathan…"at this point, he started crying. Now getting far too personal. "He was just a victim. Just a victim! He was a pain in the ass at times, but that doesn't mean he deserved to die! He was young the first time he came. He just did as he was told, desperate to stay alive. Even now, when he striked again, all he did was try to stay alive. He didn't know anything. He just wanted to live-"

"Shawn!"

"Jacky… God, Jacky… he had a wife and a kid. They depended on him. They loved him so much and he loved them back. He was a great father to his son and patient with Erica. He was such a good person. Then and now. He was smart, he was caring, he was patient, he was sensible… he was needed! He didn't deserve to die! He should be alive right now, not me-"

"Shawn!"

"And yet here I am! I'm the one who survives! God knows I should have died before. I never take any risks into consideration before I act. On more than one occasion I should have lost my life. I'm nothing special. And yet, here I am! But why? Why me? Why do I deserve to live? I… I don't-"

"SHAWN HENRY SPENCER DON'T YOU DARE!" I finally yelled at him. This finally made him stop talking, but still. He cried and cried. "You deserve to live just as much as all those people did. They all deserved to live. But sometimes… sometimes psychos like Stuart come along thinking they have the privilege to take away these people's rights. You don't deserve to die any more than your friends did. They were just unlucky. We couldn't get to them in time. But we managed to get to you. We managed to save your right to live."

"But-"

"No, Shawn! You deserve to live just as much as any other person. You deserve to live just as much as Juliet or Gus or Lassiter do. And I don't ever want to hear you think otherwise!" Shawn just nodded and then looked back at his wall. I know what that means.

It means I won't _hear_ him think about it again. But that doesn't mean that he won't.

"Do you really think that you don't matter?" I asked at last. "Do you really think that no one cares about you?"

"I don't know…"

"Well, you matter to me! If you live, if you die, if you're hurt… I care about you, Shawn! And I can tell you right now that there are at _least_ four _other_ people in this hospital _alone_ that worry about you every day! That care about you! And if you had died in that horrible chair or on the operating table, the whole damn _Earth_ would be a much gloomier, much darker, much duller place than anyone could ever imagine! And me…" and now I could feel myself tearing up. Just the thought of losing my own son… the thought alone. "If you had died, Shawn, I just don't know what I would have done." Shawn looked at me again. Almost in surprise.

"Are you… crying?"

"Shawn, you are my son… and I love you. If anything were to have happened to you…" I just shook my head. And then there was silence. For a very long time too. That's when I realised… I don't' actually remember the last time I had told him I loved him. So maybe it's my fault that he thinks he's so unneeded, so unimportant in my life.

"I love you too, dad" Shawn said at last, breaking the silence. He then turned his head back to the wall and stopped talking. Stopped blinking. He just stared. All I could do was hold his hand and squeeze it tight, hopefully proving to him that he was not alone. That he is needed. That he _deserves_ to live.


	30. Touchy Touchy

**Hello lovelys! Firstly, thanks so much for OVER 200 REVIEWS! aaaaaaaannnd... OVER 10000 HITS! thank you all, you lovely people! Also, 30th chapter! Crazy! There is a bit of talk of guns in this chapter. I honestly just googled standard police guns so if there's something that doesn't seem right, blame google. I don't actually have any knowledge of guns.**

******So, this chapter ended up being split into two as well. Partially because I really wanted to upload today and I only just realised I'm only half way done with this chapter and partially because it just works better. **Quite long so Enjoy!

**Reviews! Please review! I love all kinds of reviews! Good, bad, terrific, awful, long, short… any! Please do review!**

* * *

Present Day

Juliet O'Hara Point of View

* * *

I walked into the bathroom seeing the shower that called out to me. Finally, the stench would be gone. The water would jet against my head and maybe, just maybe, my thoughts would start to be less dark… more optimistic. After checking the bathroom five times, making sure no one was there to snap my picture, I walked into the shower. With my gun. What? Can't be too careful.

I felt the water pour onto my back while resting my head on the wall. All I could think about was Shawn. Poor Shawn. He must be in so much pain. Please be alive. _Please_ be alive. I need to tell him so much. I need to tell him that I forgive him. that I don't blame him for lying to me about being psychic. That I understand why he lied and why he didn't tell me about his criminal record. I need to tell him that I'm still so much in love with him. and I need to tell him I'm pregnant. I need to. If I don't get to tell him… then what?

I heard the bathroom door open and my eyes flew open wide. I grabbed my gun and couldn't help but thing… _my God, I've become like Carlton_...

I poked my head past the shower curtains to see a nurse holding folded up blue scrubs.

"Sorry" she said, turning her head away. "I have a key and I'll lock the door on my way out. I just forgot to give you the scrubs and a towel. I didn't think you'd want to put back on your old clothes that are covered in vomit."

I should say something. I should thank her or something of the sort. But instead, I just pulled my head back into the shower and tried to drown myself in the jets of water that came pouring down. I listened very carefully for the sound of the door closing again and that click to show that the nurse was true to her words. Then I allowed myself to fall back into my self-loathing.

What if I never get to tell him all these things? What if he dies on the operating table all because we didn't get there in time? It would be my fault. I delayed Shawn and Gus back at the station. If I had been faster or just let them go sooner… then maybe it wouldn't be such a close call.

Finally, I just turned off the shower. It's time to face everyone again.

I walked out to see that my normal clothes had been taken away. Instead, there were the blue scrubs that she was holding and a towel. I didn't even bother to dry myself. I just put on the fresh clothes and walked out. To my extreme surprise, Carlton was there.

"O'Hara! There you are!" he yelled at me. "What the _hell_ did you think you were doing?"

"Excuse me?" he _can't_ be mad at me.

"You disregarded the chief's orders! You came to LA even though she specifically told you not to! And worse than that, you brought along not only his father, but Guster as well! You were supposed to follow protocol-"

"And if I had we would have lost Shawn!"

"But because you did we lost Stuart!" that I did not expect.

"He got away?" I whispered.

"In a way" I just stared at him. "He killed himself. There was nothing we could do."

"Oh, so you're saying that you'd rather that The Hour Killer was in jail but that Shawn was dead? Is that what you're saying?!"

"I'm saying it shouldn't have been this way! I'm saying that the families of the victims deserved much more than this!"

"And you blame me?"

"If you had just stuck to protocol –"

"If she had stuck to protocol" the chief called out, interrupting our argument. "We would either be dealing with a dead detective or a man hunt. Seeing as neither of those two things happened, I'd say it was a good job." This left Carlton and I speechless.

"Chief?" I expected everything Carlton had just said to be coming from the chief. I had disregarded her orders, after all. And the only time she had ever given thanks to someone who did that was when it came to Shawn.

"Good work, detective O'Hara. I should have never doubted you." she nodded her head at me.

"Um… well, thanks… I guess…"

"In the meantime, Lassiter."

"Yes chief?"

"We got the results back from LA forensics. They confirmed it. It was Shawn's gun."

* * *

6:01 am.

Shawn's alive. I could run up the walls and touch the sky I'm so happy! As soon as Henry Spencer said the two words, my heart started fluttering. He's alive. That's all that matters now! Shawn is alive. Shawn is alive!

10:03 am.

Shawn's alive. I should focus on that. I really should. But I can't. I need to see him. I need to talk to him. I need to hold his hand and look him in the eyes. I looked over at Gus only to see that he seemed to have the same idea. One simple glance and we both stood up and almost ran towards the receptionist. She gladly gave us the room number but told us not to have our hopes up too high. It's unlikely he'd be awake at this time. We went anyways.

We just stood by his side. And waited. Soon enough, Carlton appeared. He told us it was unhealthy to just stand by Shawn like this. He wasn't even conscious. We should just wait until his doctors say he's awake and well. Until then, there really is no point. And maybe we should listen to him. After all, we had a rough night yesterday and hardly any sleep. The last thing we needed was to get so needlessly stressed.

So we decided to go to the cafeteria, get a coffee and finally fill out our statements. Then, Henry Spencer woke up and mentioned Jacky again. And to all of our surprise, Lassiter even heard about him. meaning… he was checking up on him.

"You care about him" I said to him, smiling and nudging him.

"Why the hell would you say that?" he said, trying desperately to hide it.

"You were checking up on him." Gus and the chief were now looking at him as well. They all saw it. They all thought it. But Carlton tried to ignore it and took a sip from his coffee. Pointless, really. We all knew the truth.

"Detectives" Chief said at last. "I'm going back to Santa Barbara." Crap, that's right… we have jobs to get back to.

"But… what about…"

"Juliet, _I'm_ going back. I'm the chief and I should be back where I am needed. As for you two, you have a job to do here. You have to get a statement from both Spencers'. Then, you also need to come back to Santa Barbara."

"But… Shawn…" chief just looked at me. "Understood." When the chief started to leave and I found myself fighting back tears.

I don't want to go back to work. I want to stay here, with Shawn. I want to stay here with my boyfriend. I want to stay here with the father of my child.

* * *

Finally, Shawn is awake. I can finally see my boyfriend. But… _he_ had to ruin everything.

"Don't you find it odd that he turns up here, where the only survivor of The Hour Killer is?" Carlton said. He has a point. It's obvious that he does. But… dammit, I want to see my boyfriend!

"But…"

"Look, if we interrogate him … we can extend our stay here in Los Angeles" Now he's got my interest. "Tell the chief that we're investigating Adam Smith. Then we can be here for Spencer more." Dammit. He knew exactly how to get me on board.

"Come to think of it, there are a surprising amount of details that Smith knew about that were never released" I replied. Then I turned to the only people who were actually going to see Shawn. "Mr Spencer… will you-"

"I'll explain to him" He assured me. "He'll understand." Then, he all but sprinted towards his son.

"I'll give you a full update later" Gus said. He better keep that promise.

"Come on" Carlton said. "Let's go talk to Smith.

I walked up towards Smith and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around to face me. As soon as he recognised who I was, he freaked out. He started to sprint away only to have Carlton grab his shoulder and pull him back towards us. Adam Smith looked as if he were about to just break down and cry. Carlton started to escort him out, me following closely behind, when the receptionist decided to protest.

"Now, wait just a second!" she called out. So odd hearing that tone from this sweet lady. "This is a hospital! What do you intend to do to him?"

"Look, lady, I'm a detective and I'm investigating, so if you don't mind-" Carlton started.

"You're a detective in Santa Barbara!" the woman said. "Last I checked this is Los Angeles."

"And this person is a resident in Santa Barbara and is a suspect for a crime committed in Santa Barbara which means I have rights to interrogate him! now if you don't mind, I have work to do!" Carlton then started shoving Smith towards the exit. I shot the receptionist an apologetic look before following him.

"Alright, Smith" I said. Carlton stared at me in betrayal. He wanted to take the lead in this investigation. Tough. "You have a lot of explaining to do."

"What do you mean?" he asked. Carlton rolled his eyes.

"Don't play dumb" Carlton said, now starting to take lead. "You were there when Nathan was shot. You have motive to kill Jackson. You have no alibi for any of the crimes we're investigating and now look at you! You're at the hospital where Shawn Spencer, the latest victim of The Hour Killer is! Now talk!" Smith started staring first at me then at Carlton.

"Don't I have a right to a lawyer or something?"

"You're not being interrogated by two detectives. You are being questioned by two very concerned friends! Now talk!" Carlton said, surprising even me.

"Alright. Okay" Smith said at last. "I've already explained to blondie here about Jackson's killing and the bank robbery. So, as for Nathan… well… there's no motive there, for starters. Secondly, I saw the man get shot. He was in the room right next to me. I knew how suspicious that was. And then, the idiot that I am… I picked up the gun. Blondie here saw me with it and I figured just how doomed I'd be. Everything would be against me. Not even the best lawyers could protect me. So I ran."

"Why are you here then? Of all the places to run to?" I asked.

"Because… I kinda promised Carl."

"Excuse me?" I said.

"I was under the impression you and Carl hated each other at this point" Carlton said.

"Yeah. Not quite. You see, six years ago, Carl got married. He invited Shawn, Nathan and I. I think that was just an excuse to get us all together in one place. He explained to us that he… couldn't live knowing that The Hour Killer got away and that he was determined to find out who was behind it. He told me to keep an eye out on Nathan and then he went to talk to Shawn. I don't know what they talked about. All I know is that after their little chat, Carl came up to me and asked –no, begged- me to take good care of Shawn. And, well, I promised."

"Sounds like this was quite the gathering" Carlton said.

"It was."

"Okay, one last thing I don't understand. How did you know so much about Shawn? About what he was going through?"

"Well, you see, a couple days ago, Shawn tracked me down. He – like you, the LAPD, Carl and so many others – assumed that I was the Hour Killer. He called me and told me to leave him alone. To stop threatening him. I calmed him down and explained he was wrong. He wouldn't listen though. Then, just yesterday, he called and said he had to leave Santa Barbara immediately. He asked for my help. And so, I told him how I was going to LA to work with the Police. I just figured, what's a safer place than a police department? So we arranged to meet up there. I never saw him. I tried calling him all of last night and this morning, I finally decided to check the hospitals. And… well… that leads us to now."

"You expect us to believe this cra-"

"I believe him" I said, interrupting Carlton. He just stared at me with wide eyes.

"O'Hara!" he complained.

"Look, we can always keep him with us until Shawn confirms the details. And if he doesn't, then we can take him back to Santa Barbara. But I believe this man is telling the truth."

"Fine." Carlton muttered. He put a hand on Smith's shoulder and closed the death grip, pushing him along with him. and we made our way to the cafeteria. Carlton sat Smith down on one of the chairs and then he pulled out his phone. "I'm calling the chief. See how much of an extension we can have on this. Then, we'll go get the statements form both Spencers'. Keep an eye on him." I just nodded in response. Adam Smith stared at the exit, taking notice in the fact that he wasn't hand cuffed or tied or anything of the sort.

"You can run if you want" I said calmly. "Though that won't really help your case." Adam Smith nodded and stayed seated.

The rest of the time we spent alone was in silence. We could only just hear the sounds of Carlton on the phone. Not nearly enough to hear what he was saying. Then he came back and was very eager to get the statements. Knowing very well that he couldn't leave Smith alone, Carlton got one of the security guards to keep watch. Meanwhile, we made our way over to room 314.

When we got there… it was just so odd. Gus was pacing on the outside of the room, though there didn't seem to be anything going on inside. We figured he was just giving the father and son some alone time so we pushed open the door. Henry Spencer turned his head towards us but Shawn… well, Shawn just continued to stare at the wall.

"Oh, please not now" Henry pleaded. "He's not himself. Can't you wait to get his statement?"

"It really can't" I said apologetically. "We're currently holding Adam Smith and Shawn's statement could be the deciding factor on whether or not we put him in jail." Henry nodded.

"Actually, if you could start writing your statement, that'd be a big help" Carlton said, handing him a pen. He sighed, but agreed, knowing the time would come eventually.

Throughout that whole conversation, Shawn just continued to stare at the wall. He was really starting to worry me.

"Spencer" Carlton called out. He didn't budge.

"Shawn?" I said softly. Then he slowly turned his head towards us. "We just need to ask you a few questions." No response from Shawn. Would he even be able to answer our questions?

"When was the last time you had contact with Carl Jackson?" Carlton asked. I stared at him in horror. Of all the questions to start off with, he chose that?!

"August, 2006" Shawn said. His voice just sounded so… off. It wasn't Shawn speaking. He was giving a straight answer all the time. No jokes. No 80's references. I don't like it.

"What happened in this communication?"

"It was his wedding. He wanted to catch up. He also asked me to help him find The Hour Killer. I refused."

"When was the last time you had contact with Adam Smith?"

"Yesterday."

"What did you two discuss?"

"We were talking about meeting up in LA. I told him I needed to leave Santa Barbara."

"Why did you need to leave?" this time, Shawn hesitated before answering. The first sign of emotion I've seen so far.

"You know why" Shawn said.

"It's for your statement, Spencer. Just answer the damn question." Another hesitation.

"Ethan Stuart was threatening me. Telling me to get off the case. He took pictures of those I cared about, threatening me with them. Saying if I didn't leave, he'd hurt you…"

"What happened when you arrived in Los Angeles?" this time, it wasn't so much a hesitation. More like a complete shutdown. He just didn't want to speak.

"Shawn?" I put my hand on his and finally noticed how much he was shaking. "Carlton, ask a different question."

"O'Hara, this is a statement. I can't just-"

"Look at him, Carlton! He doesn't want to say! Now ask a different question!"

"This is the problem when you get too emotionally attached" he hissed at me.

"What, I actually try to _protect_ the victims?!" Carlton glared at me, but moved on.

"Did you ever purchase a 22 glock pistol?"

"No." Carlton and I exchanged a look.

"You never purchased one?"

"Nope."

"Ever held one?"

"Never."

"Shawn, we know you bought one" I said at last. "Your prints were all over the gun and we have records of you buying it."

"Well, if you already knew, why'd you ask?"

"To see if you'd tell the truth" Carlton answered for me.

"You didn't tell me the truth about Jacky" Shawn said, shifting his glare to Carlton. He simply shifted uncomfortably and tried to carry on.

"Have you ever fired from that-"

"I got it sixteen years ago" he said, looking at me now. And that's when I realised, he's defending himself. Of course! The way I reacted to his criminal record, he probably thinks I'd freak if I knew he had a gun! "I got it just after the bank robbery in 1996. It was just… for safety. I brought it along with me when I left for LA because… well… I was scared. It was just for safety. I never used it. Not once. I mean, hell, I don't even know if it works."

"Oh, it works" Carlton muttered. I then elbowed him in the ribs. This wasn't something Shawn needed to hear. I looked back at Shawn only to have my worst fears confirmed. His face was turning even paler (was that even possible?) and eyes opened wide.

"What happened to Ethan Stuart?" Shawn asked. Crap. He was figuring it out.

"He's gone" I said.

"He's under arrest?"

"He won't hurt anyone anymore" Carlton said.

"He's dead, isn't he?" Shawn whispered. My turn to hesitate.

"Yes" I said at last.

"It was my gun that killed him, wasn't it?" Shawn asked again.

"Yes" Carlton answered.

I'm not sure how I expected Shawn to react to this news. I don't think Carlton knew either. No one knew. But one thing's for sure, I didn't expect him to react like this. Suddenly, Shawn just broke down and started to cry. He hung his head low and cried into his hands. We didn't know what to do. We ended up just staring for a while until nurses and doctors came in, talking about an increase in heart rate. They urged us to leave and we did as told.

We watched from the small window on the outside as the doctors gave Shawn a sedative. Then Shawn fell asleep again. We wouldn't be able to talk to him again for a while. And that made my heart break.

* * *

We had just explained to Henry what had happened. To say he was mad was… an understatement. He stormed off to visit Shawn, even though we stressed the fact that he was now unconscious. Gus quickly followed, wanting to be with his friend again. Carlton then released Adam Smith, seeing as his details were consistent with Shawn's details – the very few details we _did_ manage to get from Shawn.

Carlton sighed as he sat back down, looking at the miserable attempt of a statement.

"Chief's not going to be happy" Carlton said. I stared at him confused.

"So how much of an extension did she give us?"

"Until the end of the day" I just stared at him.

"You're joking, right?" he shook his head.

"She wants us back with a complete statement for everyone involved. We're still missing Shawn's."

"I'm not going back today."

"O'Hara-"

"No! He is my boyfriend! I'm staying with him!" I yelled at him.

"O'Hara, you have a job! You are a detective! Crime doesn't stop just because your boyfriend is hurt!"

"He's more than hurt, Carlton! He was attacked! He was tortured!"

"He's a Spencer! You think he wants any special treatment?"

"Can't I claim this as a family emergency? I want to stay here with him." I said with more force this time.

"You have to be actual family for that to count. Seeing as you're just a girlfriend, no! You can't claim it!"

"How about the fact that I am carrying his child, Carlton?! Is that family enough for you?!" Carlton glared at me, knowing very well that I was right.

"What is this all _really_ about?" Carlton just stared at me. And finally, I he broke his little charade. He let me see what was really bugging him, though I wasn't really expecting it…

"I'm Head Detective, O'Hara" he whispered. He better not start up this conversation again. I am just as good of a detective as he is! "I shouldn't have been led to a dead end. I should have been able to find Spencer. But I didn't…"

"Carlton…" I didn't know what to say. I was simply lost for words. I had never expected this to come from the detective in front of me. He finally was able to calm down and see reason.

"I'm sorry about what I said. Yesterday and… today." He's actually apologising.

"Do you by any chance have any type of recording device on you? I don't think I'll ever get to hear you apologise again. I just want it recorded so we can mark this day in history."

"I can't take it here, O'Hara. Seeing Spencer like that... I can't help but feel that if I had been a better detective I could have actually done something… _useful_ yesterday…"

"You did everything you could, Carlton. Don't blame yourself." Carlton just nodded. "Look, if it makes things easier, I'll make sure Shawn completes his statement. You can go back and handle things back in Santa Barbara." He nodded again.

"Thanks, O'Hara." He started to stand up and pick up his files. "You'll… uh… keep me posted, right?" I smiled at him.

"If that's what you want." He nodded again and started to walk away.

Who would have thought the Carlton had a soft spot for Shawn?


	31. I Can't Take It

**Hello lovelys! Sorry for late update. So super duper sorry. I usually update so often and now look at me! I had to block FanFic again from my computer to finally sit down and do work. But it's up now! But, first things first, I'm thinking of doing a chapter of Carl Jackson's wedding. Thoughts? I also have an awesome surprise for all of you (not in this chapter)! So I'm looking forward to that! **

**In the meantime, enjoy this chapter! Major cliffy up ahead. Sorry. Didn't actually plan for it.**

**Reviews! Please review! Good, bad, awesome, terrible, I don't mind!**

**(Also, if you can say why I chose the number 314 as Shawn's hospital room, I shall virtually fist bump you).**

* * *

Present Day

Juliet O'Hara Point of View

* * *

Day 1

As soon as Carlton left, I ran into Shawn's room. There was no point in me sitting away from him. After all, he's all I really care about right now. Even if he's just asleep… I need to see him

Henry and Gus were already in room 314, making themselves at home. As soon as I walked in, they started to glare at me. I glared right back. I knew they were upset with me for revealing how Stuart had died, but it wasn't my fault. Shawn had figured it out and I did not intend on lying to him. I sat down in the only available seat and watched Shawn.

We all just sat there in silence, waiting for him to wake up again.

It wasn't until nine o'clock that Gus and I decided he wouldn't wake up today. We went to the cafeteria to get dinner, but Henry remained. He insisted on it, saying that soon enough, a nurse would come in to check in Shawn. Then, he could ask for food and somewhere to sleep. Gus and I, on the other hand, eventually made our way back to the waiting room. It didn't take long for us to fall asleep.

* * *

Day 5

Gus and I had returned to Santa Barbara for the shortest visit. We picked up some clothes and all our essentials. Then, I stopped by the police department while Gus stopped by the Spencer household to pick up a few items for Henry. Carlton wanted a full report on how Shawn was doing, as did some other close friends of Shawn. Which, actually, was most of the other cops and detectives at the department. Shawn never really had any trouble making friends. Or enemies, for that matter.

"He's… alright" I said hesitantly to the crowd of people surrounding me. "He doesn't really talk much. Or, really, react much to anything. But, physically, he's fine. The doctor said that soon, they could try to see if Shawn can walk again. Once they know the full damage of his leg injuries, they say they'll be able to transfer him back to Santa Barbara." It didn't seem like I had given them the type of information they were hoping for. But, honestly, what did they expect? That Shawn was skipping around, singing and dancing?

I was walking towards the chief's office when Carlton caught up with me.

"Did you get his statement?" he asked me. Of course, that's all he ever cared about. Work.

"Sort of" I said. He just looked at me. "He answered every question very objectively. And as soon as I'd ask what actually happened to him, all he'd say was 'Can't you tell?'. I try to push for it a bit more, but then he says he doesn't want to talk about it. And after what happened last time, I don't really want to push him anymore." He just nodded and pried the files free from my hands. He opened it up and read through Shawn's statement. He then started to read it out loud.

"'I was riding my bike and saw someone following me. I tried to lose him by going off on an old road I used to know but he knocked me off my bike. The rest is a bit of a blur. I just remember a lot of pain and, before I knew it, there were sirens sounding.' That's…" Carlton stared at the statement for longer, trying to find the right words. "That's just pathetic" he said at last. I just rolled my eyes at him and snatched back my files.

"It was all he would give me. Trust me, Carlton, I tried."

"And did you tell him about your little… bundle of joy coming along?" he said that with such disgust that it almost made me want to slap him.

"No" I answered calmly. "I keep waiting for the right time to tell him. and then when the time arises, I start to worry about how he reacts. I mean, what if he reacts badly to it? That won't exactly help his condition."

"Well, you know, he'll notice eventually. You can't exactly keep it hidden forever."

"I know."

"Oh, and, by the way… Erica said that there was going to be a joint funeral for Hayworth and Jackson in two weeks… she said that Shawn was more than welcome to come along." I just nodded at him. "So… how are you feeling? Being… you know… pregnant and all…" I just shot him an odd look. Why did he always come back to this? He probably just couldn't accept it, I guess.

Finally, we reached the chief's office. This awful excuse for a conversation could end and the awkwardness would simply lift into the sky. I pushed open the door and walked over towards the chief. She was sitting at her desk, stressed as usual. She seemed happy to see me. Which was odd.

I never actually called her to explain where I was. I was afraid she'd yell of force me to come back. Carlton assured me that he told the chief everything, but he isn't exactly the best person for the job.

I quickly and silently place the statement in front of her.

"It was all Shawn was willing to share" I said, defending myself already.

"That's fine, Juliet. How's Shawn?" she asked. I just stared at her confused. I was fully expecting to be yelled at today. "Well, detective, Shawn is one of our own. I do care if he's hurt or not. Just because I go back to work doesn't mean I've stopped worrying."

"No, I know that. It's just… well, I never called in to say I wasn't coming back. I figured you'd be mad at me."

"I never expected you to call me and I certainly didn't expect you to come back so soon." Now I'm really confused.

"But… then why did you give Carlton and I only one day to get all the statements?"

"I didn't" she said, just as confused as I was. "He called me when I had left to explain your situation with Adam Smith and asked when I expected you both back. I explained to him that you two could take as long as you wanted. He insisted that the statements would be in by the end of the day. I just figured that Lassiter intended to come back and you intended to stay behind."

"Carlton told me you wanted both of us back on that first day…" the chief just shook her head.

"I would never ask for such a thing. Especially not of you."

"Thanks chief…"

"You're welcome" I started to walk towards the door. "I think" I heard the chief mumble at the end.

I walked out of her office and stormed towards Carlton. I don't think I had ever been so mad at him. How _dare_ he lie to me! And about Shawn of all people! Saying we had to get back so early!

"Carlton Lassiter" I almost yelled at him. He stared at me for using more than just his first name. "I have had enough of you." he just stared at me oddly. "You just make me so _angry_. If you want to find out how Shawn is doing, you either call Gus or Henry or come to the hospital yourself. And if you ever make me feel so guilty about not completing a statement, I will break your wrist." He seemed to understand what particular event I was talking about. He just nodded, knowing I was right to be upset with him.

But he also knew that in just a few days, I'd be back to my normal self, so there was no point in apologising. Even though I know what's going to happen, I can't stop it. In two days, he'll call and ask for an update on Shawn. I'll be so happy that he cares that I'll tell him every minute detail. So all I can do now on this subject is glare at him. So I made sure I gave him the dirtiest look I could as I walked out of the station. Soon enough, Gus showed up. I climbed into his car and we drove back to Los Angeles.

When we got to the hospital, Shawn was asleep again. No big surprise there. It seemed to be all he would do now. Sleep, stare at the wall, be practically forced to eat at least three bites of food, talk only when spoken to and then sleep again. It made my heart break.

* * *

Day 8

Carlton called again. And true to my and Carlton's theory, I told him how Shawn was doing. Everything about him. About his eating habits, his injuries, his general condition and I told him all about how Shawn was finally learning to walk again. A couple more therapy sessions and we would be able to transfer him to Santa Barbara again.

I hate that. How can I not be mad at Carlton anymore? He was an ass! I deserved to be mad! For once in my life, I have the right to be furious with him! and I'm not. I blame the pregnancy, really. It's so annoying. One second I'm pissed off and the next I'm jumping up and down in excitement of seeing Shawn. Gus and Henry didn't take much notice, and if Shawn noticed, he didn't say anything. Not that he ever did, really.

He only ever talked when spoken to. When someone asked a direct question. Other than that, he just stared at the wall ahead of him. Gus told me about Shawn and Henry's conversation from a week ago. I tried to talk about him about it, to tell him how much he meant to me and how much I love him and even to tell him about the baby. But every time I finally found the time, my courage died. And every time I built up the courage, I didn't have the time.

I pushed open the door to room 314, fully expecting a sleeping Shawn. Instead, he was on his feet, trying to walk again. I don't think he noticed me walking in. He started to stumble and I ran over to him, trying to support him. He looked at me and flashed me the weakest smile I had ever seen on him. On anyone, really. I looked up at the IV that he had taken out in order to walk around for a bit. Great, now they'd probably get mad at me for this. Blame me.

To be honest, I don't even fully understand why he needed an IV tube. He was physically capable of taking his own painkillers. But for some reason, he caused such a scene whenever they tried to give him actual tablets. Saying something about not wanting to have to force drugs down his throat. But that wasn't the point here.

"What are you doing, Shawn?" I asked him. The smile faded quickly when I guided him back to his bed. He just shrugged at me. Right. I have to ask direct questions in order to get an actual response. I looked around and realised… I have the courage and I have the time. "Shawn, I need to talk to you. I need to tell you something-"

"Before you do" Shawn interrupted me and I just stared at him in shock. I didn't ask him a question. He was openly talking to me. Whatever I wanted to say can wait, Shawn is talking! "I want to say… sorry."

"Please don't apologise" I said quickly

"But I never g-got the chance to. And I know you're mad at me. I lied to you, I kept secrets, b-but I had to. To keep away from j-jail. I wanted to tell you, honestly." I tried to ignore his stammer. It always came whenever he talked about anything that happened that day.

"I understand, Shawn" I said at last. "That is what I wanted to talk to you about. I wanted to say that I'm not mad at you. Not in the slightest. In fact, just the opposite. I love you, Shawn." He stared at me blankly.

"I love you too" Shawn said softly. A small, genuine smile crept on his face.

"And also…" I started to hesitate now, courage slowly fading away. Shawn stared at me curiously. Just tell him, O'Hara. Tell him now. He deserves to know. He needs to know. You are pregnant with his child and he deserves to know. Tell him you're pregnant. It's as simple as that. Two words. Two simple words. Just tell him. Tell him. Tell him now.

"I'm… "

Tell him.

"Well, see, I'm…"

TELL HIM!

"I'm always here for you. We all are. Carlton, chief, me, Gus, your dad… we're here for you. Always. For the smallest problems and for the biggest. Don't forget that." Coward.

Shawn nodded his head once and turned his head back to his wall.

"Can I ask you about Carl Jackson?" I asked him. he turned his head towards me and stared almost in horror. After a small hesitation, he finally nodded his head. "Well, you two were really close weren't you?" Shawn nodded and then shook his head. He sighed.

"It's complicated" he whispered. I just smiled at him. "Well… we met, as you probably figured out, in the b… b-bank. He offered me a j-job. We were really close then, but… after… after the f-first time… we just never talked. We couldn't t-take it." Shawn tried to shake away the thoughts and I almost wanted to stop asking. But curiosity got the best of me.

"But you met up at his wedding again, didn't you?" I asked. He just nodded this time, not wanting to speak anymore. "If you don't want to talk anymore, just tell me." Shawn just nodded again.

"It's fine" he said. "Jacky asked me to h-help him find the Hou… h… him…"

"And you said no." he nodded in confirmation. "You kept asking for him before… when you first woke up…"

"He and N-Nathan are the only people who know what I-I've been through."

"Last question, I promise" I said. Shawn just nodded again. "Why did you originally take the case on his murder?" I asked, referring to weeks ago, before we thought it was Clovers. Before this got so… ridiculously out of hand. "If we had known how close you two were, or what you had gone through, we would have never asked for you to be on the case."

"I would have worked it anyways." I stared at him almost in shock. That was the most emotion I had ever heard in his voice in the past week.

"But… why?"

"Would you have suspected The Hour Killer? I just had to be sure that he wasn't the cause of Jacky's death. And… I really thought I was sure…"

"Erica Hayworth told Carlton that their holding a funeral for Carl and Nathan in around two weeks. She said you were more than welcome to come along." Shawn nodded once and immediately, we were back to the blank looks. I was really starting to hate this little… defence mechanism he was putting up.

"Shawn…" I didn't know what to say anymore. So I just sat by his bed and held his hand. I expected him to start staring at the wall instead and never look back.

He did stare at the wall. But he also couldn't stop eying his IV tube.

* * *

Day 14

Shawn could walk. Of course, he couldn't do it unless he had his IV tube on a stand carried with him as he walked, pumping fresh painkillers in to his system… but still. He could walk. The doctors would only let him walk around the corridors and insisted that the moment he feels even the smallest of pains, he should go back to his room and get some rest.

Gus and Henry seemed to be thrilled and were working hard to get Shawn transferred back to Santa Barbara. I offered to help many times, but they said the same thing as always.

"Juliet, look, I would love your help" Henry said. "But until you tell my son that he's going to be a father, you're not allowed to help."

"But-"

"It shouldn't be that difficult" Gus said. "And he deserves to know."

"I know he does. And I will tell him. it's not like I never plan on telling him."

"You have to tell him before he finds out" Henry clarified..

"Yes. Okay. I'll go now" I said, already walking towards Shawn's room. "And when I finish telling him, I fully expect to be able to help!"

I walked towards room 314 with unusual amount of hope and joy. I pushed open the door only to see Shawn, freaking out and packing his bags. Did he not hear me come in? I slammed the door shut and Shawn quickly turned around to face me. He grabbed onto the bed post and clutched his leg. He then sat down on his bed and tried to hide his pain.

"Shawn…" I said cautiously.

"Hey, Jules" Shawn said back to me.

"Where are you going?"

"Nowhere." I walked towards the bag he was holding and emptied it out revealing clothes and what seemed like a travel pack or something. Where did he even get all this from? When did he get it? He was going to run.

"Why?" I asked him. Shawn took a short intake of breath before exploding.

"Because I can't take it Jules! I can't take lying in this bed all day, staring at that stupid wall, constantly being drugged up! I can't take not being able to walk without an indescribable pain shooting up my legs! I can't take not being able to breathe without a pain in my chest! I can't take it! If I have to spend one more day in this stupid hospital, I swear, I might as well be dead!"

I didn't know what to say. I hadn't heard Shawn talk to passionately about anything since he found out Stuart was dead. He had stopped most of his stuttering and didn't zone out as much as he used to, but still. He was always only just with us. And now here he is, actually talking about his injuries. Talking about his struggles. And while I'm not sure if he meant that last part, it sent chills down my spine.

"Don't ever say that" I found myself saying. "Finding out you were alive was the happiest, most relieving day of my life. If anything were to have happened to you I don't know what I would do-"

"Get back with Declan, probably." That hurt. More than words can describe. "At least he could give you what you want."

"_You_ are what I want, Shawn." Great. Now I'm tearing up. "Please don't leave. Please don't." no answer from Shawn. "I told you before, Shawn. You always have us. We're always here for you. All of us. Your dad, me, Gus, Carlto-"

"Chief, haven't seen her yet. Carlton, only came for my statement. Don't be fooled into thinking he cares whether or not I live or die. Gus, I haven't even seen him since he found me in the apartment. Talking to my father is like talking to a wall, except with a lot more yelling. And you…" Shawn just shook his head. I'd get to all those people he just mentioned. Especially Gus. How could he _not_ have visited Shawn yet? And on top of that, how could he not visit Shawn and yet still have the courage to tell me how to work my relationship with him?!

"Don't go, Shawn" now time for a well thought out and logical argument. "You can't even get very far with you injuries. You should just wait, okay? We're already trying to get you transferred to Santa Barbara. Just give it a bit of time, would you?"

"Okay" Shawn said. I could see it that he regretted what he had said before about Declan. But other than that one look I saw in his eyes, I didn't get any other indication of an apology.

I pressed the call button and soon enough there were nurses in the room. The put Shawn back in his bed and took away his bag. I on the other hand, ran out of the room. Tears already falling down.

Gus found me first. He took me back to the cafeteria where Henry was waiting as well. They asked me to explain what had happened. So I did. I explained how I had walked into Shawn attempting to run and most of what he had said. I left out the dead part. Gus and Henry just sighed.

"Yeah. That's Shawn for you" Henry said. I just stared at him in shock.

"He was going to run away" I said.

"That's just how Shawn copes" Gus said. "He did it for 5 years, Juliet. When things got tough, he packed up and left."

"And things are definitely tough right now" Henry added.

"So you're not worried… at all?" I asked.

"Look, Juliet, when you want to convince Shawn to do something he doesn't want to do… how long does it take?" Henry asked.

"What is this, a riddle?"

"Just answer."

"I don't know. A lot. He's stubborn."

"ERR!" Gus exclaimed, mimicking an error noise.

"Trick question. You can't convince Shawn to do something he doesn't want to do. If you convinced him to stay put, then he really _does_ want to stay put. So stop worrying. He'll be fine."

"He said he might as well be dead" I confessed at last. That left them speechless. So I continued. "And then he told me to get back together with Declan."

"We need to get him out of here" Gus said.

"Now" Henry agreed.

* * *

Day 16

Shawn was transferred to Santa Barbara today. He was put in an ambulance and they drove to the Santa Barbara Hospital quickly. Henry, Gus and I piled into his Echo and followed the ambulance all the way there. As soon as we got there, we asked for Shawn's new room. Room number 159. We went to check up on him only to see that he was asleep. How he managed to do so was still a mystery to me.

This room was pretty much identical to the one in LA. Despite the obvious differences which included being in a different city, it was the same. Same uncomfortable bed, same disgusting food, same hard sofas. Good old hospitals. Always keeping comfort into mind.

After a while, we decided to make refugee at the cafeteria. Sure, we actually had houses now. We could just go home. But I can't leave until Shawn wakes up. I need to tell him about being pregnant. Especially after that Declan comment.

"Why haven't you told him you're pregnant?" Gus asked.

"I've never been able to find the right time to tell him" I told him. "Plus, I'm scared about how he might react. What if he reacts badly? That's the last thing he needs right now."

"And what if he responds wonderfully?" Gus asked.

"I will tell him."

"Why wait?"

"Not now, Gus. It makes perfect sense to wait."

"He deserves to know-"

"And he deserves to have his best friends visit him every now and then!" I snapped at him. Gus stared at me in shock. "So don't you go telling me about what to do and what not to do. What he deserves and what he doesn't! What he _needs_ and what he doesn't! because, you want to know something? He needs you. He deserves to have his best friend." Gus just continued to stare. "Think about it. He kept asking for Jackson when he first woke up. Why? Because he knows what Shawn has been through. There are only three people in the world who knew what he's been through. Carl, Nathan and _you_! Carl and Nathan are dead. He _needs_ you, Gus! And you're just sitting around feeling I'm the one to blame!"

"How do I know what he's been through?"

"He went to you the first time. When he came back, he stayed with you. You know what he's been through in a different way than Carl and Nathan. But that doesn't change the fact that you still know what he's been through." That left Gus silent. Actually, it made me silent as well. Was I just yelling at him the very same way I wish he wouldn't yell at me in?

"Gus, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to yell-"

"You were right to" Gus said. "I wish you did so sooner. I wish someone would have just slapped me. I'm a horrible fr-" he was interrupted by three doctors running through the halls.

"-low blood pressure and difficulty breathing. We may lose this one" one doctor said.

"What room?" the second asked.

"159" the third responded and before we knew it, they were gone. Gus, Henry and I exchanged a brief glance before shooting out of our seats and following after the group of doctors.

We peeked through the windows to see doctors huddled around Shawn. Then, a group of nurses escorted us away into another waiting room. The three of us didn't bother sitting. We all just started to pace. Back and forth, back and forth. Until, finally, a doctor showed up. the three of us ran up to this poor doctor, who looked frightened of us suddenly racing towards us.

"How's Shawn?" Gus asked quickly.

"What happened with my son?" Henry demanded.

"He's fine. He's alive-"

"There was a risk he wouldn't be?!" I cried.

"Somehow the dosage of painkillers there were being administrated to him with the IV increased. Someone could have tampered with it. We had to pump out most of the drugs but he should be fine. I recommend, though, in order to prevent this from happening again, we should switch to taking painkillers orally."

"Someone must have manipulated Shawn's IV" Henry deduced.

"I assure you, it was not a member of staff" the doctor said.

"You sure about that? Because, let me tell you, we were doing just fine in the hospital in LA. It wasn't until we got here that this happened."

"Is it possible that maybe it was an outside job?" Gus asked. "Like, maybe Stuart had a partner or something. They were just finishing the job."

"Either way" Henry said. "We have to get to the bottom of this. These types of accidents don't just happen!"

He's right. They don't. oh, God. The signs were so clear. Shawn insisted on having an IV. Shawn insisted on not taking painkillers orally. Shawn kept eying the IV every couple minutes. Shawn couldn't take it anymore. Shawn said it himself; he might as well be dead. Shawn thought he didn't deserve to live. Shawn though he wasn't needed. Shawn though he was alone. Shawn was in constant pain. It was Shawn.

"Look, I'm still pretty sure about Stuart having a partner" Gus continued to theorise. "I mean, it just fits."

"I don't know. I think it was maybe a nurse or-"

"Why would a nurse target Sha-"

"Both of you, shut up!" I yelled at last. "You both know very well that it wasn't any of those people. You're thinking it too, you just can't accept it. You keep thinking 'He would never do that' but… I honestly think-"

"Don't say it, Juliet-"

"I think Shawn tried to kill himself."


	32. Selfish

**Hello lovelys! Starting to get back to my regular updating schedule type thingy. Whatever you want to call it. Since no one got why Shawn's room was 314, I shall tell you. He had rooms 314 and 159. Which is 3.14159 which is Pi. It has nothing to do with Pscyh. I'm just weird like that.**

**To be honest, this chapter and the last two chapters were all meant to be one chapter. All in Juliet's POV. But it was just so long, it had to be split up. Cliffie in this one. Enjoy! (By the way, after this chapter, there are only 2-3 chapters left. It all depends on one chapter that I'm considering doing, really).**

**Please review! Good, bad, awful, excellent. Just review! I love them all!**

**Any thoughts on having a Carl Jackson's wedding chapter?**

* * *

Present Day

Burton Guster Point of View

* * *

"I think Shawn tried to kill himself" Juliet said. Mr Spencer and I just stared at her.

Of course we had considered that. I just didn't want to accept it. I didn't want to think that my best friend tried to kill himself. I didn't want to think that he was feeling so depressed, so useless, so unwanted that he figured the only option he had was to kill himself. I didn't want to think about the fact that if he had succeeded in his plan, it would have been partly my fault. I should have told him how much he meant to me as a friend. Instead, I never even saw him.

Well, I did visit him. But… never when he was awake. I just couldn't. in 1999, Shawn appeared at my door and I took him in, let him stay with me as long as he needed. And I don't regret that. It's just that… I don't want to go through it again. To see that look on his face and know I can do nothing to help. To hear him calling out in the middle of the night, screaming and fighting. I just didn't want to deal with that again.

But I'm being so incredibly selfish that I hate myself for it.

How could I have been that way? For so long too? Shawn must hate me. I wouldn't blame him even in the slightest if he does. I deserve to be yelled at, to be told to leave him alone. I left him to deal with all this trauma alone. And now it was all finally adding up, piling against him, to the point where he felt he had to kill himself. I need to talk to him. Is he even awake? Who knows. I have to go, though. Even if he's just snoozing. I'll sit there and wait for him to wake up!

"I'm going to visit Shawn" I said twenty minutes later, out loud for both Mr Spencer and Juliet to hear.

"I'll go with you" Mr Spencer said.

"If you don't mind, sir, I really need to talk with him alone. I feel like an ass for not having even visited him before. Do you mind?" there was a small hesitation.

"I do mind, actually. I want to see my so-" he was cut off by his phone ringing. He looked at the caller ID and then looked back at me. "You have until the end of this phone call." He answered the phone and pressed it to his ear before starting to wander off. "Hey, Maddy…" I then turned towards Juliet, wondering if I'd have to deal with another person who wanted to talk to Shawn.

"You go" she said. "It's about time you two talked. Besides, Carlton said he'd come here to see Shawn. He should be here any minute now. I better wait for him and tell him what happened, before he does anything stupid to set Shawn off like he did last time."

"Okay" I agreed quickly, very aware of the fact that I'm now on a time limit set by a Spencer. I then started to walk towards Shawn's room.

"Don't take too long, though" Juliet warned me. "I need to talk to him as well. Tell him certain… news…" and there was that panic in her voice that made me understand why she hadn't done it yet. But she, just as I do, feels guilty about Shawn. Maybe if she had done something about it sooner Shawn wouldn't have tried to end his life. Better late than never.

I pushed open the door to room 159. Shawn was sitting upright in his bed, staring accusingly at the nurse who was pretending to do work in order to keep an eye on him. Shawn was really losing his observational skills. He didn't even notice that I had walked in. neither did the nurse, but I never expected her to notice. Yet, she was the one who saw me first.

"Ah, Mr Guster. So good to see one of Shawn's friends" she said as she practically sprinted to the door. "If you need me, just push the call button." Then she bolted from the room. God only knows what Shawn was doing to make that woman react that way. Maybe he was giving her weird looks, or trying to make her feel guilty for taking away his IV. Whatever it was, it hadn't worked out the way he planned. Instead of making her leave him alone, he scarred her for life.

"What did you do, Shawn?" I asked jokingly, still staring at the door. When I didn't hear a response, I finally turned to look at Shawn. He was staring at me, and not in the way that I had hoped.

I had hoped he would be happy to see me. I had hoped he would forget about the fact that I never visited or maybe just not bring it up at all. I had hoped that he would easily forgive me for being the worst excuse for a friend known to man. I had hoped, but knew it was in vain. And the look on his face just confirmed my worst fears. But it's for the best. If he lets out his emotion and gets mad at me. I deserve it, and it's good for him too. I ducked my head down, bracing myself for his yelling.

But nothing came.

I peeked a look at Shawn again only to see that he was staring at the wall ahead of him.

"Shawn?" I called out to him. He just continued to stare at the wall. "Look, I know this is a little late, but do you want to talk about anything that happened?"

"No" he said quickly and I realised he _is_ mad at me.

"You have every right to be mad at me, but I just wanted to say that I'm so, _so_ sorry. And that I'm here for you. If you want to talk or yell or-"

"Well, while this is all just fine and dandy, where the _FUCK_ were you two God damn _weeks_ ago when I actually needed you?!" Shawn yelled at me. It took me a while to recover from the pure shock that came from his outburst.

"Look, I'm sorry I never came. I really am. And if you asked me why I never visited, I wouldn't be able to tell you. I came on several occasions to visit you, but as soon as I saw you, I just froze." He just continued to stare at me, glaring. "I'm here now, though. And while I am very late, I come with promises of pineapple smoothies, pineapple upside down cake and plain old fresh pineapples." The glare almost immediately vanished and a small, small, microscopic smile threatened to form.

It's not too late to help. He really _did_ need me. Much more than I thought he would. Juliet was right. I knew what he had been through and I knew what would make him feel better, what would get him through it all. I was such an idiot not to have helped him before.

"I'll be here for you, okay? If you need anything, just say the word." Shawn nodded and then lay his head down. It took me a while to realise why he was squeezing his eyes shut so tightly. "You in pain?" I asked.

"Well, they took away my IV and all the pain relief drugs have left my system so… yeah. Kinda."

"You can't really blame them, Shawn. You did just… try to…" I couldn't say it. And Shawn wouldn't hear it. He just started shaking his head. But we need to talk about this. Soon, too. Or else it might just happen again. "Shawn, you tried to kill yourself" I said at last. Now Shawn refused to look at me. He just turned his head in the other direction, but I swear I saw a tear start to roll down his cheek. Great, now he's crying. I won't be able to lecture him or tell him how much he means to me without crying as well.

"I… well…" now he was just making sounds and sighing a lot.

"Why?" I asked. Shawn just hung his head with no answer. "Shawn, you need to tell us. How else will you get better?" still no response. Fine, forget that question. It would take time for him to talk. Besides, I have a much more important question to ask. "Do you wish you weren't saved today?" Shawn shoved his hands in his hair and grabbed a good hold of it, hiding his face behind his hands. I stared at him, still waiting for an answer. Then, slowly, slowly, Shawn nodded. "You would rather they left you and you died?" It took a while, but sure enough there was a very slow nod.

"Well, I for one, couldn't be happier that you're still alive" I said. "You're my best friend, Shawn. If anything were to happen to you, especially something that I could have helped you with or prevented in anyway, I just wouldn't know what to do with myself. Do you know how boring my life would be without you?"

"Do you know how _safe_ your life would be without me?"

"Shawn…?"

"Carlton, don't!" we both heard yelling from outside the door. Shawn lifted his head at the sound of Juliet's voice arguing with – apparently – Lassiter. Shawn and I exchanged an odd look before Lassiter finally burst through the doors, full of rage.

"Of all the selfish things you've done in the past, Spencer, this by _far_ is the worst!" he yelled.

"Carlton!" Juliet yelled.

"Why the hell would you pull a stunt like that?! What good could possibly come from trying to kill yourself?!"

"Lassiter, do you really think this was for attention?!" I yelled at him, knowing very well that Shawn wasn't going to argue. Not with his current mentality. Lassiter just shot me an odd glance at my outburst before moving back to Shawn.

"Then what?! You think you're alone in the world and you've got no one to rely on?! You think no one cares for you, Spencer?!" Shawn still just looked so shocked from all the yelling. He wasn't going to answer any time soon. "Tell you what, Spencer, if you can name _one_ person that wouldn't care if you died, _one_ person who wouldn't cry over you, I will _help_ you kill yourself!"

"CARLTON!" Juliet yelled, while I yelled out "LASSIE!"

Shawn just continued to stare at him, in shock and in confusion. I'm not sure if he was actually considering the question. It was hard to tell at this point.

"Coming up blank, are we?!" Lassiter continued to yell. "Well, let me just start throwing a couple names in that would be weeping over your dead body! Your dad, Guster, O'Hara, McNabb, your mom! Need I go on?!" Shawn was still speechless. Juliet just stared at her boyfriend, waiting for him to say something. Anything. "So there! People care about you! and you were just going to leave them behind! Leave them to deal with the emptiness that you left behind! That is the most selfish thing I have ever heard of! Hurt all those close to you just for the sake of abandoning your troubles!"

"You're all better off without me!" Shawn finally yelled. This lead to Lassiter finally being quiet and Juliet's eyes practically popped out of her head.

"How?" Lassiter whispered angrily. "How the hell are _any_ of us better off without you?!" Shawn stared at us for a while, clearly fighting back a huge sob. Then, the door burst open and in came Mr Spencer. He stared at all of us, very worried for Shawn.

"What's going on?" he demanded. It's crazy how just the presence of this man could quiet down a room full of yelling adults.

"Nothing" Lassiter grumbled. Shawn just seemed relieved that this interrogation was over. Mr Spencer stared at us a bit longer before moving towards his son.

"How you feeling?" he asked.

"Fine" Shawn replied quickly. Mr Spencer stared at his son for a little while longer before turning back to the rest of us.

"Do you mind leaving me alone with Shawn for a bit? I need to talk to him" Mr Spencer asked calmly. Lassiter and I nodded our heads and began making our way to the door. Juliet on the other hand stayed put.

"Actually…" Juliet said. Then she turned her gaze to Shawn. "I need to tell you something."

"Can't it wait?" Mr Spencer asked.

"I have the time and the courage to tell him now. God knows when that will happen again" Juliet argued. Shawn started glancing at Juliet and his father, very confused about what was going on. Shawn then made eye contact with me, hoping to see an equally confused face. But I knew exactly what was going on. As did Carlton.

"What's going on?" Shawn asked. Juliet looked at Mr Spencer more meaningfully. He hesitated but finally nodded.

"Okay. Okay, fine. It can wait" Mr Spencer said. "I'll talk with you later, kiddo." And with that, he left the room. Lassiter and I were about to follow but Juliet threw us a look.

"Do I really have to be here for this?" Lassiter asked.

"Yes" Juliet said.

"For what?" Shawn asked, losing his patience. Juliet took a deep breath and faced Shawn again.

"Look, I could make a dozen lists of people who need you, people who love you, and people who care about you. I could make lists of people who would cry if you died and laugh in pure relief that you lived. But none of that will matter to you, will it? Because you truly believe that we'd all be better off without you. Well…" Juliet started glancing at Lassiter and me. Now I understand why she wanted us here. Moral support. I nodded in approval and Juliet looked back at Shawn.

"I… I-I… I definitely wouldn't" Juliet stammered. She took another deep breath, trying to compose herself. Shawn continued to stare at her in a mixture of confusion, curiosity and horror. Just wait until he hears the news…

"Because… well, you see… "She paused again. Juliet closed her eyes and took another deep breath. Shawn just continued to stare in a mixture of emotions.

"I'm pregnant."


	33. I Never Told Another Joke

**Hello lovelys! Unfortunately, what with Uni preparation/applications/acceptance and mock/final/essays I cannot update nearly as often as I'd like. My goal is to update again tomorrow and Sunday.**

**After this chapter, there is only one more chapter and then an epilogue. It's almost over! It's kind of sad… I'm going to miss writing this. Anyways, enjoy!**

**Reviews! Please review! I love all types, the good, the bad, the terrific, the awful, the long, the short. So please, review!**

* * *

Present Day

Henry Spencer Point of View

* * *

Why would Shawn do this? I understand that traumatic experiences can often lead to depression and even thoughts of suicide. I've dealt with partners who've gone through it, I've dealt with victims that have gone through it. And I know that Shawn had Post Traumatic Stress Disorder in 1996, the first time the Hour Killer attacked. But still, I never would have thought that Shawn would actually try to kill himself. How could this have gotten so bad for him? Did he honestly think that the best option for him was to just _die_?!

"I'm going to visit Shawn" Gus said twenty minutes later.

"I'll go with you" I said quickly.

"If you don't mind, sir, I really need to talk with him alone. I feel like an ass for not having even visited him before. Do you mind?" He's joking, right? This is my son! And he just tried to kill himself!

"I do mind, actually. I want to see my so-" then my phone rang. Excellent timing. The I looked at the caller ID and realised that if I ignored this call, well… I'm going to be in a lot of trouble. "You have until the end of this phone call." I said, much to Gus' happiness. "Hey, Maddy…"

'Henry!' Maddy practically screamed into the phone. 'What happened to Shawn?'

"What? How-"

'Don't tell me you forgot' Maddy said. 'You called two weeks ago saying Shawn was in the hospital! Then you called again this morning saying that you were in Santa Barbara and-'

"Right! Yes, no, I remember. I just…" I looked up and saw that Maddy was actually standing right there in the waiting room. Had she notice me? Probably not. "You didn't tell me you were in Santa Barbara…" I said into the phone. Why? I'm not sure. She's right in front of me. I could just go talk to her.

"What? How did you-" then she turned around and saw me as well. I waved at her and she finally hung up the phone and walked towards me. "Well, you didn't tell me you were here until this morning."

"We got here today." And now she was silent.

"Oh…" she said after a moment. "Well… where's Shawn now? Can we go visit him?" Crap.

"He's just asleep right now" I lied quickly.

"Well, asleep or not, I want to see him." she started moving towards the receptionist and I couldn't help but stand in her way.

"Look, Shawn is asleep. Nothing's going to happen to him. and you are obviously tired. Did you come straight from the airport?" Maddy hesitated but then nodded. "Why don't you go back to the house, take a nap. I'll call you as soon as he wakes up."

"Alright…" she said hesitantly.

"Okay."

"But you call me…"

"Of course."

"Alright."

"Okay." Another hesitation. "Bye…" she nodded and then walked out of the hospital. I waited until she was completely out of sight before running back to Shawn's room.

When I finally walked into Shawn's room, he was staring at the wall ahead of him. At first, I worried that Shawn would never get better anymore. But then I noticed how different his stare was this time compared to all the other times. He was lost in thought, yes. But why wouldn't he be? After all, he just heard he was going to be a father.

"So, how are you taking it?" I asked, after a long moment of silence. I wasn't sure what to talk to him about. There was just so much. I need to tell him about Maddy, he needs to talk about what he did this morning, we had to talk about the baby _and_ to top it all off, we had to get all this done _before_ Maddy came back.

"Taking what?" Shawn asked.

"The baby…" Shawn then turned his towards me, horror in his eyes.

"I'm going to be a terrible father" Shawn said quietly. Dammit, he _just_ found out about the baby, and he's _already_ starting to doubt himself.

"Shawn, come on-"

"That poor kid is going to have the worst childhood in the history of the world-"

"Shawn, firstly, you're going to be fine. You may not be so responsible for your own safety but everyone knows what you're like when it comes to Gus or Juliet or anyone you care about. I mean, hell, you proved this to us by running away to Los Angeles in the first place." Shawn stared at me confused for a moment before his eyes opened wide in realisation.

"So you saw the letters then… and the… the pictures…"

"Yes" I answered. "When we found your note, Gus found the clue you left. The hidden message. Then Lassiter tore your desk apart trying to find those letters." Shawn just nodded once. "What you did, Shawn… well, that was really… brave of you." Shawn just stared at me for a while before finally shrugging his shoulders. "Shawn, you don't seem to understand just how brave you were. You risked your life just because someone showed you the possibility that one of us _might_ get hurt. And if you'd do that for us, I'm sure you'd do the same for your child."

Shawn didn't say much to that. He just stared at him for a while before turning back to the wall. The all too familiar look in his eyes.

"Shawn, we need to talk" I said, remembering what exactly had happened just this morning.

"No, please not you too" Shawn complained. "I had Gus make his 'man-to-man' speech, I had Lassie yell at me and I just had Jules beg for about a minute. Please don't make me listen to another variation of the same speech."

"Okay, you won't" I said calmly. Shawn just looked at me confused. "Not from me, at least. Under one condition."

"Go on, then. What is it?"

"You're going into therapy. I want you to have regular sessions with a therapist of my choosing."

"Okay-"

"Dammit, Shawn! You can't deny that- wait… what? You're not putting up a fight?" Shawn just shrugged his shoulders.

"I just… well I don't want to feel like… like this…"

"And how do you feel?" Shawn just shook his head. "You can't keep this bottled up, Shawn."

"That's what the therapist is for." Fair enough. It's not like Shawn and I ever really had a very strong relationship, especially not when it came to feelings.

"One last thing, Shawn. Your mom is here."

* * *

Shawn started therapy the day after he tried to kill himself. Much to all of our surprise, Shawn really did try to take part. Or so the therapist said. Shawn kept everything to himself and Dr. Lewis. All he was allowed to tell us was that though Shawn was taking it seriously, it'd be a while before he would fully open up.

Maddy was told everything the same time the therapy started. She was mad at first that I didn't tell her immediately, but it only took a visit to Shawn to understand.

Shawn was doing a lot better. Physically, at least. He was starting to be able to walk without that much pain. Or so he said. Whether or not he was just trying to hide his pain, I don't know. All he needed now was a cane to support his cracked knee cap and a brace to immobilise his knee. The doctors said that they wanted to keep Shawn another week before letting him go. Just to make sure that he wouldn't need any other surgery. Therapy, however, would continue regularly.

How Shawn was doing psychologically was only known to Dr. Lewis and Shawn. As far as we could tell, he was getting better. He seemed to be more willing to talk, but still, he never started a conversation, never talked about what happened and worst of all, he never joked. There were times in which I had wished that Shawn would just stop annoying us all with all his jokes, but now… I just miss his inappropriate sense of humour and badly timed jokes. But in any case, today just wasn't the day for jokes.

Today was the funeral of Carl Jackson and Nathan Hayworth. Shawn, of course, was going. He had wanted to go alone, but we wouldn't let that happen. For one thing, he needed to have someone there for him. and also, we were afraid he'd do something he'd regret. There were many who offered to go with him. Gus, Juliet, Maddy… even Lassiter and Chief Vick offered to go with him. But in the end, it's only me.

Shawn was dressed in a suit with his knee brace hidden. He had his cane with him and when he walked out of the car and towards the ceremony, I couldn't help but feel that there should be a Doctor House joke made right about now. And if I'm honest, it killed me.

"Shawn" Miss Hayworth said softly. Then she pulled him in for a hug. Shawn wrapped his free arm around her, but other than that, he did nothing. She left him after that, to go handle other people who were coming to pay their respect.

"I can't do this" Shawn whispered to me. "I wanna go ba-"

"Shawn, you're not going back" I said sternly.

"What?"

"You'll regret it-"

"No, dad, I won't. Please just let-"

"Remember when Despereaux died? That was the first death you've ever had to deal with. And you didn't even have to cope with it because it turned out he wasn't even dead. This is good closure for you." Shawn stared at me for a while before heavily sighing and moving towards the back of the ceremony.

Shawn hardly paid attention to the actual ceremony, to the words said about either men. Shawn was asked long ago to talk about them, but he quickly refused. He simply couldn't handle it. Miss Hayworth stood up and said some words and her son started to, but choked and stopped talking. Throughout it all, Shawn fought hard to keep his emotions locked away. To not even show the lightest bit of the pain he felt. Then, there was the burial.

Few people were invited to this part of the ceremony. Shawn was one of them, along with the other obvious people. When they were lowering the coffins into their graves, that's when Shawn finally cracked. At first he just turned his head away, quickly wiping away any signs of pain. Then, he just took off. He limped away from the graves and almost tried to run away from it all. I quickly caught up to him, but once I was by his side, I had no idea what to do. So I just put my hand on his back. He turned to look at me for one second before burying his face in my shoulder and crying his eyes out.

* * *

Today was Shawn's 30th day in the hospital. It's been just over a week since the funeral. When we first got back, he was even more quiet than usual. Doctor Lewis told us that was to be expected. And I suppose it really should be. But yet, it still felt just so… odd. But then, as the week went on, Shawn was starting to talk more. Not as much as he did before The Hour Killer… but he was getting better.

Maddy was leaving the state tomorrow. Three days ago, Juliet and Gus had gone back to work for the first time since Shawn was in the hospital. Today, though, we were all here. For one reason and one reason only. Shawn was being discharged today.

Doctor Lewis walked out of Shawn's room and approached Maddy and me. He asked for a word in private, so we walked away from the rest of the group. I quickly noticed that his notes on Shawn were faced towards us and Maddy was scanning those pages as if her life depended on it. I quickly offered the distraction and asked what was wrong.

"Oh, nothing's wrong, really" Lewis said. "He's just being discharged today. I should just give some suggestions, ways to help Shawn settle in again. Firstly, I don't suggest he stay alone at first. He should stay at someone's house."

"He's staying with me" I said. Lewis nodded his head.

"Good, good. I also suggest that he continues with these therapy sessions. I can and will prescribe him some drugs to help, but there's only so much they can do, right?"

"Oh, he's definitely coming back" Maddy agreed.

"Good. And while I cannot reveal much about what Shawn's been telling me, I will say this. Shawn is… well he's blaming himself for most of the events that happened. So what you could do at home is help him understand that he has done everything he could have done. The sooner he stops blaming himself, the sooner he can recover from this." Why would Shawn blame himself? Well, then again, he does have the tendency to assume everything was his fault.

"Of course" Maddy agreed.

"So I guess all that's left are the prescriptions." Lewis then pulled out two containers of pills. "This one is for the pain in his legs. Their quite strong, so he should only take two a day. But, if the pain becomes really unbearable, an extra one can be taken. And this one is for the depression. " My head snapped up at this. While the signs were obvious, I couldn't help but be surprised that it got to the point that he needed drugs to keep the thoughts away. "We're starting off with three a day. Preferably one after every meal." I looked at the pills in both my hands and then looked up at the doctor.

"Why are you giving me the pills?" I asked. Maddy and Lewis exchanged a look and I felt stupid immediately.

"Well, he's confessed that he still has suicidal thoughts" Doctor Lewis said quietly. Maybe I shouldn't know about this… "While he seems like he doesn't have the intention to act on these thoughts, why take any risks?"

"Right. That makes sense" I said.

"Yes. So, I guess I'll be seeing Shawn tomorrow. Unless you prefer to have the sessions less frequently…"

"Shawn seems pretty keen on having them daily" I said. Lewis nodded and started to walk away. I turned to Maddy. "which is weird, don't you think?"

"He wants to get better" She said with a shrug of her shoulders. I just nodded my head. "Which is a good thing. That means he's getting better."

"What'd you get from his notes?" I asked. She smiled at me.

"You noticed that?"

"I'm surprised he didn't. Come on, then. Time to show of your eidetic memory." Her smile then started to fade.

"Doctor Lewis believes Shawn is suffering from Trauma Related Guilt. It's connected to Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and is often treated in the same way."

"He was diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder in Chicago, after the first time" I said, remembering the file I had read about Shawn.

"And didn't you all say that this case was very similar to the last one?"

"Yeah. Except, this time people actually died."

"Which is why he developed the guilt. In most cases of Trauma Related Guilt, they feel like they should have and could have done something to prevent the events from happening in the first place. And then, on top of that, in some cases they feel guilty for having survived at all."

"But that's ridiculous. Why should he feel guilty?" Then I remembered. The very first conversation Shawn and I had when he first woke up, almost a whole month ago. _'Why me?' _I quickly moved on, trying not to think about him feeling guilty. "So what now? How do we help?"

"It's just like Doctor Lewis said. Help him understand that he did everything that he could have done. That there was nothing more he _could_ have done."

* * *

It's only been two days since Shawn was released from the hospital. Things were already looking better. On his first day out, Shawn went to the beach and just sat there, staring out at the ocean. He should have never been cooped up for so long. Being confined to a room for a month can drive even the most patient person insane. Imagine how difficult it must have been for Shawn?

Now, he was sitting at the kitchen table with Gus, Lassiter, Juliet and me. Maddy had already left for a conference, but she called every night and promised to be back within a couple days. Juliet put another large portion of food on her plate that only brought smiles to nearly everyone's faces. Including Shawn's. This baby was possibly one of the best things to happen to them at the moment. No, Shawn wasn't the most responsible person. No, they aren't married. But, dammit, this baby was going to be the happiest, most loved addition to the Spencer family. And it couldn't have come at a more needed time.

"Have you thought of any names, yet?" Gust asked, staring at the portion of food on Juliet's plate. No one had to ask what he was talking about. It was all fairly obvious.

"We don't even know the gender of the baby yet" Juliet said with a smile on her face.

"Oh, please, it's going to be a boy" Gus said.

"What makes you so sure?" Lassiter asked.

"I've just got a feeling."

"All we know is that we're naming him or her after someone" Juliet said, looking at Shawn for a nod of approval. He just smiled at her and weakly nodded his head.

"Ooh, who's the lucky person that the baby is named after?" Lassiter asked.

"Well, I was thinking…" Juliet started to hesitate. "I was thinking of the name Jackie…" the room quickly fell silent, watching for Shawn's reaction.

"Really?" he whispered. Juliet smiled and nodded. And then a smile spread across Shawn's face, making everyone at the table let out a very silent sigh of relief.

"What about Godfather?" Lassiter asked.

"Well, obviously I'd be godfather" Gus said smugly. "After all, I am his best friend-"

"Oh please! You'd be so irresponsible-"

"Yes, but in all fairness, Lassie-face" Shawn said. This caused us all to suddenly be quiet and stare at him. that was the first time he called anyone by one of his silly nicknames. Shawn just continued talking, pretending he didn't notice. "If Gus were Godfather, he'd teach the little baby how to have fun. If you became Godfather, you'd probably teach him how to sort through evidence." Lassiter rolled his eyes and pretended not to care much about what Shawn just said.

A new conversation picked up, but I just kept staring at my son. And even the rest of them would occasionally throw Shawn an odd but happy glance. All for a very simple but very wonderful reason.

He told a joke.

He is getting better.


	34. Nothing

**Hello lovelys! Couldn't manage an update on Friday because it was snowing hard and I got stranded at a friend's house and didn't have my laptop with me. And to top it all off, this is a really long chapter.**

**Little side note, **_**Italics**_** are memories. Also, you may remember several chapters ago I said I had a surprise for you. It is in this chapter. You'll see very soon. Enjoy!**

**Decided to split this chapter up. It simply couldn't be done in one take. You'll see. I intend to upload the next chapter before I got to bed though.**

**Reviews! They are always very much loved and always appreciated! So please review! Good, bad, corrections, anything!**

* * *

Present Day

Shawn Spencer Point of View

* * *

The pain. Oh my God, the unbearable pain. In my legs, in my hands, on my head… everywhere. The raging headache that urged my eyes to shut, the intolerable pain in my hands that made me regret every move I made, the burning feeling in my legs that made me wish for nothing more than death itself. But I won't beg. I won't give him that satisfaction. They will come for me. They have to come for me. They can't just leave me. Surely they got my clues, surely they understood why I left. They just _have_ to come for me. They'll be here.

"When the hell did you have the time to send a message to that idiot cop?" Stuart asked. He clearly figured it out, surely the others must have as well. They'll be here.

"Just after I left" I managed to say. Before I knew it, fists were flying and the next thing I knew my nose was bleeding.

"How?! How the hell did you manage to do this?! Again?!"

"Panicking?" I asked. Then, there was a pain in my hand. A very sharp pain. An unbearable pain. A pain that made me miss the old pain.

"Just like old times" he said with a smile on his face. Then, there was a new pain. A pain that made me forget about every other broken bone and every other open wound. I could feel my shirt soaking up blood. I could feel the knife in my gut. I could feel it all and all I could wish for was a quicker death. They'll be here. Soon, that door will be kicked in to reveal a very familiar face. They'll be here.

But there was no door kicking. There was no rescuer. Instead, the knife was yanked out and brought back to my gut. Again and again and again, each time more painful than the one before. Each time bringing me closer and closer, slowly onto death's doorstep. They're not coming. I'm going to die. They didn't find me in time. I'm going to die.

So I just accepted it and closed my eyes, letting the blackness take over me.

"SPENCER!" I know that voice. I know it very well. But what is Lassie doing in my own personal hell? "SPENCER WAKE UP!" Wake up? That's it! I'm dreaming! No one's dead! Jacky's, Nathan, me! I'm alive! We're all alive!

If I open my eyes, I'll be at the station. I just fell asleep on the desk, that's all. It was all just a horrible, horrible dream. None of it really happened. I was just having a nightmare! I've had lots of them before, this was just another one! Of course! It all makes sense. It's been 16 years. He wouldn't attack again. This was all just a dream.

But then I did open my eyes. And I'm in a white room and it makes my head spin. But Lassie's here. Maybe I just hit my head or something and had to go to the hospital. Nothing happened. It was all just a dream.

"Lassie?" I asked.

"Spencer."

"Where's Jacky?"

"Who the hell is Jacky?"

"Carl Jackso-"

"_-Mr Spencer, Mr Guster, this is your new case. The victim was Carl Jackson. He was found dead in his apartment at…-"_

"He's fine. He's… resting" Lassie said. It was just a dream. It was just a dream. It was just a dream. None of it really happened. Jacky's just in the other room. He's alive. He's just resting. It was just a dream. It was just a dream. It was just a dream.

But it wasn't.

"They can't be dead" I found myself saying. Oh, God. It wasn't a dream. They did find me, I didn't die. But that doesn't matter. He's dead! They're all dead! Jacky and Nathan! They're dead! "They can't be dead. They can't be dead!"

"I'm going to go get your dad" Lassie said quickly, almost sprinting for the door.

They're dead. They're all dead. All that he did, all that he deserved… it didn't matter anymore. He was dead. He shouldn't be dead. Jacky deserved to be alive. He had a son, he had a wife, he actually had a family. He had a happy life. He was such a good person. He shouldn't be dead. He can't be dead. But he is. It shouldn't be like that. It just shouldn't.

And Nathan. He's dead. But what did he ever do to deserve it? He shouldn't have died. That shouldn't have happened. He just wanted to live his life. He didn't want anything from it. He didn't expect to be anything great or powerful or maybe even important. He was just happy to be alive. So many times I wish I could have been like him. to just be happy every day that I was alive. But now look at him! He's dead. He doesn't deserve to be dead. He should be alive. And yet…

I'm still alive though.

But why? What have I done that was so special? What did I do to deserve to be alive? What did I do that gave me a second chance? Why did I get the rescuer? Why was I saved?

"_No one _had_ expectations that _you_ would amount to greatness!"_

I am nothing.

So why was I saved? Why me?

* * *

"Shawn?" I heard a voice say. I know that voice. It's Juliet. She sounds so kind, so worried. Does she not still hate me? I turned my head to face her and saw that Lassie was with her. "We just need to ask you a few questions." That's it. She probably still hates me. But, I'm a victim. She has to be kind to me. She has to take me statement. That's all there is to it. Well, then, fine. I'll answer her question. If that's what it took to get them to leave.

"When was the last time you had contact with Carl Jackson?" Lassie asked.

"August, 2006" I answered quickly.

"What happened in this communication?"

* * *

_It was Jacky's wedding. He invited me and so I went. I never actually met Erica. I never met any of his other friends of his son. I never said hello to Nathan or any other person that I once knew. I stayed in the back and watched them say their vows. Then I started to leave. I was on my bike when Jacky found me._

"_Shawn, I need to ask you something-" Jacky was saying._

"_No way" I said quickly. Just from the look in his eyes I knew exactly what he was thinking of. And I wouldn't have it._

"_You don't even-"_

"_You're going after The Hour Killer" I said quickly. He just stared at me in shock. _

"_How did you-"_

"_It's fairly obvious, Jacky. Why else would you be rushing this wedding? Why else would you be inviting everyone from your past into this occasion? You want a chance to be able to say goodbye."_

"_Okay, yes. So I'm going after the Hour Killer. I was just wondering if you would-"_

"_Like to help you?" he stared at me in shock again. "Again, it's obvious. You kept looking around in the crowd for a certain face. And on top of that, you were reading a newspaper that had my face on the cover. You know I have a psychic detective agency and you want to make good use of that. My answer to your question, however, is no way."_

"_Spence, he ruined our life-"_

"_It was ten years ago. Let it go."_

"_I can't do that and neither should you! He nearly killed you!"_

"_Yes, I know! I barely made it out alive! And you know what? I don't really feel like dying! I'd rather live, thank you very much!" Jacky looked at me oddly._

"_You never really got over it, did you?" he asked me quietly. _

"_I barely made it out alive" I repeated. He just nodded his head. "I'm not going to stop you. But I'm not going to help you." _

* * *

"It was his wedding" I answered Lassie's question, coming back down to Earth, to the present day. "He wanted to catch up. He also asked me to help him find The Hour Killer. I refused."

"When was the last time you had contact with Adam Smith?"

"Yesterday."

"What did you two discuss?"

"We were talking about meeting up in LA. I told him I needed to leave Santa Barbara."

"Why did you need to leave?" Surely they knew. How else would they have been able to find me? They must have known.

"You know why" I said.

"It's for your statement, Spencer. Just answer the damn question."

"Ethan Stuart was threatening me. Telling me to get off the case. He took pictures of those I cared about, threatening me with them. Saying if I didn't leave, he'd hurt you…"

"What happened when you arrived in Los Angeles?"

Pain. Just a lot of pain. I remember everything. Of course I do. That was one of many drawbacks to have a perfect memory. I remember everything. I remember every crunching sound my bones made when my bike crashed. I remember every agonising breath I took. I remember every painful move I made. I remember the slow build-up of that burning sensation in my legs.

I remember everything.

"Carlton, ask a different question" I heard Juliet say.

"Did you ever purchase a 22 glock pistol?" Carlton asked, moving on after a inaudible argument between the two.

"No" I answered quickly, afraid of how Juliet might respond.

"You never purchased one?"

"Nope."

"Ever held one?"

"Never."

"Shawn, we know you bought one" Juliet said. "Your prints were all over the gun and we have records of you buying it."

"Well, if you already knew, why'd you ask?"

"To see if you'd tell the truth" Carlton answered. He's one to talk.

"You didn't tell me the truth about Jacky" I said to him, not even trying to hide my anger

I didn't even wait to listen to Lassie's next question. I turned to Juliet and started to explain.

"I got it sixteen years ago. I got it just after the bank robbery in 1996. It was just… for safety. I brought it along with me when I left for LA because… well… I was scared. It was just for safety. I never used it. Not once. I mean, hell, I don't even know if it works."

"Oh, it works" Carlton muttered. Juliet then elbowed him in the ribs. That's when it hit me…

How would they know I had a gun? Why would they care if I had a gun? What the hell even happened after I was found?

"What happened to Ethan Stuart?" I asked.

"He's gone" Juliet said. That's not an answer.

"He's under arrest?"

"He won't hurt anyone anymore" Carlton said. That's also not an answer.

"He's dead, isn't he?"

"Yes." Now that's an answer.

"It was my gun that killed him, wasn't it?"

"Yes" Carlton answered.

It was my gun. I as good as killed him. Ethan Stuart did not deserve to die. He deserved so much worse than that. He deserved to go to jail. He deserved to suffer every day. The family of those he murdered deserved far more. They deserved to see this man in an orange suit, stuck behind bars for life. They deserved to look into his eyes and know he was getting what he deserved. They deserved so much more. Stuart deserved so much less.

And it was my gun that did all this. It was my gun that provided him with the easy way out. It was my gun that would cause those families to wish they had more. It was my gun that killed a man.

It was my fault.

* * *

I can't move. My hands are stuck, my legs are stuck… I can't even turn my head. I simply cannot move. I'm stuck in my bed, completely and totally immobile. I'm still in this stupid hospital room that makes my head spin and I'm still in this intolerable hospital night gown. The fact that I couldn't move just made everything so much worst. I was finally started to learn to walk again, and now I can't move. Great. Just great.

The door started to creak open. Maybe it was a nurse or a doctor. Or maybe it was Juliet or my dad. Better yet, maybe it was Gus. I haven't seen him in days. Maybe whoever it was could help me move again.

A tall figure walked in. I couldn't see his face. All I knew was that I didn't like it. It made me feel uncomfortable and it made me feel unsafe. But, if they can help me, I could be the devil himself. I wouldn't care.

"Hello, Shawny" the voice said. No. No! anyone but him! Any single person on the planet! I would take anyone but him!

"You can't be here. You're dead…"

"Am I really?" Ethan Stuart asked. He grabbed a pillow from one of the couches in the room and moved towards me. I wish I could move. I wish I could scream. He started to move towards me, holding the pillow up.

"I'm dreaming" I said to myself. "I have to be dreaming. This can't be real. You're dead. I know you're dead."

"Am I really?"

"Stop saying that! You're dead! You are DEAD! I killed you!" a smile spread across his face.

"And I'm simply returning the favour." And then the pillow was pressed against my face. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. I couldn't even struggle. I just had to deal with this incapability of breathing. "You know you deserve this. You are responsible for every death. You should have helped Jackson when you had the chance. You should have told the cops about the letters. They could have helped you. and they could have helped Hayworth. And, let's not forget, it was your gun that killed me. It was your fault, Shawny. All of this was your fault. You deserve to die." Eventually, I closed my eyes. I couldn't breathe. I was going to die. And he was right. I deserved to.

"SHAWN!" I forced my eyes open to see a bright room and my dad looking down at me, worried.

"Dad?"

"Shawn."

"Where's Gus?"

"In the cafeteria."

"Dad, do you believe some people deserve to die?"

"No" he said calmly.

"Not even people who have killed other people?" I noticed him staring at me oddly. I chose to ignore that look.

"Even them. They don't deserve to die, but sometimes… it's best if they do. Sometimes, their death results in a far safer place for those around them. Take Stuart, for example. He didn't _deserve_ to die but now that he is dead… well, at least he can't hurt anyone anymore."

We both remained silent for a very long time after that. In fact, I remained silent for days, talking only when needed. Juliet came to visit a lot and I would talk when she wanted. But she probably still hates me. My dad came a lot as well but we never really talked. Gus, however, never came. I don't entirely blame him. He probably finally realised how many times I put his life into danger. I wouldn't be surprised if he hated me as well.

They started to leave me alone more often. I preferred it that way, really. I didn't really enjoy their company any more. Not after my talk with dad.

"_Sometimes, their death results in a far safer place for those around them."_

How many times have those around me nearly died because of my stupidity? How many times has Gus nearly died? How many times have Juliet and Lassie put themselves in harm's way for me? How many times have those close to me nearly died? My mom got taken by Yang, Gus was shoved in a car and was threatened to be killed before, Juliet was kidnapped by Yin, Abigail was kidnapped by Yin and now nine people are dead because of me.

I'm simply a danger to everyone around me.

"_Well, in that case, we all would have died."_

"_I want to make a difference. I want to inspire people! And I can't do that if I'm dead!__"_

"_Now if it weren't for your stupid friend here, this would be the end of it. I would leave and none of you would be hurt."_

"_Spencer, I'd appreciate it in the future if you just played with your own life"_

And it's not just that. They are all better off without me, really…

"_I see you for what you are: children."_

"_Sorry Shawn, no time for your tomfoolery and silliness"_

"_It's called being an adult, Shawn. You should try it sometime."_

"_Maybe she'll get back together with Declan. At least he could give her what she wants."_

"_How can I trust anything you say anymore? How can I trust you?"_

"_Spencer, I want nothing to do with you."_

I tried to just leave. But Juliet was right, I can't run. For one thing, my injuries are far too severe to just run away. I tried to just get them to leave, but that failed miserably. So, the only other option I seem to have is… well… to die. God knows I should have died long ago.

I may not deserve to die, but once I do… they'll be safe.

* * *

Even in a different hospital, it works the same way. A simple push of the buttons and the painkiller dosage increases. So finally, when I was alone, I did the only thing I _could _do. I kept increasing the dosage until I was sure it was lethal. I looked at my arm, looked at the needle in my vein. It was still securely in. Soon enough, I'll start to feel the effects.

And sure enough, I now feel nothing. For the first time in a very long time, I feel absolutely no pain. No burning in my legs, no stiffness in my knee, no pain with every breath, no pain in my hands, no raging headaches… just a blissful feeling of nothingness.

I debated leaving a letter to explain. But then I figured they'd blame themselves for my death. I never got to say goodbye. It'd probably be better that way. They just wouldn't understand.

So I finally gave in to the sleep and hopefully, I'll never wake up again.

* * *

Where am I?

Answer: I have no idea.

What the hell am I doing here?

Answer: I have no idea.

Who the hell is that dark thing in the distance?

Answer: I have no idea.

What the hell is going on?

Answer: I have no idea.

I'm surrounded by nothing. My feet are touching nothing. My hands are touching nothing. My head is resting on nothing. I am lying on nothing. I'm just here. This is neither heaven nor hell. I decided to focus on the figure in the distance. It was the only thing that wasn't a nothing. I stared at it for so long and only now am I realising that it's getting bigger and bigger. Or is it getting closer and closer? What does it matter? I'm most likely dead anyways. Whatever it is, it can't hurt me. I'm dead.

But it's still creeping me out. It just keeps getting bigger and bigger… closer and closer?

Until… finally… I recognise it. It's Jacky. Now I know I'm dead. How else could I see Jacky? He's dead!

"You're an idiot, Spence" he said.

"What?" and suddenly, something very, _very_ bright appeared behind me. I looked over my shoulder to see Ethan Stuart smiling at me. "What the hell is going on, Jacky?"

"You're an idiot, Spence."

"Why do you keep saying that?"

"You're an idiot, Spence."

"How am I an idiot?!"

"You're an idiot, Spence."

"I'm not an idiot!"

"You did the right thing, Shawny" I heard Stuart say behind me.

"What?"

"You're an idiot, Spence."

"You did the right thing, Shawny."

"You're an idiot, Spence."

"You did the right thing, Shawny."

They both started talking, yelling, and screaming it all at the same time, giving me a headache like no other pain I've ever felt before. If I hadn't heard them say it so many times before, I wouldn't even be able to know what they were saying. It was just yells coming from both sides.

Suddenly, my feet hit something. I was now standing. On what, I couldn't tell you. Then, both Stuart and Jacky were within arm's reach. Then a path was visible to go to either one of them. I glanced at both of them, afraid to take a single step towards them.

On one side, there was Jacky. He was a very close friend, someone I knew for a very long time and knew very well and I missed him like hell. He was someone I always trusted and loved to be with, but at this moment in time, with everything that he was saying, what he was doing, how he looked… all I wanted to do was run away from him. Run far, far, _far_ away.

On the other side, there was Ethan Stuart. I always knew he was there and even had to deal with him before. On any other day, I wouldn't trust him with my pineapple, let alone my life. But now, everything he was saying topped off with that light that surrounded him, he seemed like he would be the most trustworthy person at this time.

And then it wasn't my choice anymore.

Jacky shoved me while yelling once again, "You're an idiot, Spence!". His touch sent an electrical shock all throughout my body. I couldn't help but simply yell out in pain, almost falling to the… nothingness. Then Stuart shoved me, also yelling at me "You did the right thing, Shawny!". The second he touched me, the electrical shock stopped. Instead, I couldn't breathe. I clutched at my throat, desperate for some air.

Jacky shoved me again and very quickly, my lungs were filled with air again. But there was that electrical current going throughout my body. Then Stuart shoved me and the cycle continued. I was getting shoved back and forth, alternating between gasping for air and holding back a yell in pain, constantly being yelled at.

It took me a while to finally decide I had enough of being shoved around. When Jacky started to shove me, I grabbed onto his arms, finally steadying myself.

Before I even knew what was happening, the whole area was changing, moving. Stuart just glared and then disappeared. My feet were no longer on some sort of surface. Instead I found myself lying down. A bed was starting to form below and around me and an annoyingly white room was starting to take it's form around me. All the while, I wouldn't let go of Jacky's arm. I looked up at him confused and he just smiled at me.

"Good choice, Spence."

"It was an accident…"

"Sure it was, hun!" I had to blink several times to fully take in my surroundings again. Jacky was gone, Stuart was gone, the nothingness around me was gone. I was in a hospital room and there was a nurse staring at me.

And then the pain started up again. In my legs, they burned through like fire. My hands hurt like hell and there was a headache that was like something I never felt before. I quickly checked my wrists and found my IV was gone. I looked around for _any _sort of pain medication and the nurse just stared at me.

"We took it away, hun."

"What? Why?" she just frowned at me and continued to act like she was doing work. And then it clicked. I'm on suicide watch now. A twenty four hour watch to make sure I don't try to off myself again. "So, you're just going to stand there and act like you're working?"

"Act?"

"You realise I'm in pain, right?"

"There's nothing I can do-"

"So you're just going to watch me, then? Watch me grit my teeth and act like I'm not in pain when we both know very well that I am?" She acted like she couldn't hear me and continued to stand there and acted like she was working again.

"Ah, Mr Guster. So good to see one of Shawn's friends" the nurse suddenly said. I turned my head to see Gus standing by the door. So _now_ he decides to show up.

* * *

"I'm pregnant."

I thought I was reacting well. I really thought I did. I tried to keep my eyes reasonably open so it didn't like I was staring with such wide eyes. I tried to keep my mouth closed so I wasn't gasping at her. I tried very hard to give off the very calm look. But apparently it failed because once I started to pay attention again, Lassiter and Gus had fled the room.

"Shawn?" Juliet asked.

I didn't really know what to think. There is the usual 'What? But… how?' and then there's the paranoia of 'is it mine?' only to be looked at like an idiot because obviously it's mine. So I guess that leaves us with more serious questions, past the whole shock.

"Shawn?" Juliet asked again.

"How… when?"

"Well I assume it would be around three… four weeks now?" I just nodded.

"Why did you say sooner?" I asked. Juliet pressed her lips together before answering.

"Well, I only found out two weeks ago… and that was when you first went missing. And then… well, I was worried about how you'd react." I nodded again.

"So where does this leave us? I mean… we don't even _live_ together."

"It's not like we haven't talked about it, though. I mean, we were starting to plan it. We still have eight months. We don't have to rush into anything if we're not ready."

"You're being strangely calm and understanding about this."

"Well, you've already got reprimanded once today so… I figured…" and she's referring to Lassie's little outburst. I knew he wouldn't understand. I knew none of them would understand. "Shawn, look at me…" Juliet said with more force. But… when I looked up at her, she was in tears.

"Jules-"

"I love you, Shawn. What ever happened, we can sort through it. Whatever problems you are dealing with, we can all work together to help. Just please, Shawn, _please_ don't leave me. Don't leave your father or Gus or Carlton. We all really care about you, okay? We all love you. And, I know for a fact that this baby will love you just as much as all of us do. So please… _please_ talk to us!" and now the tears were streaming down her face

"Jules, please don't cry-" Juliet then cupped my face in her hands and kissed me. When she finally pulled away I just stared at her.

"I love you" Juliet said.

"I love you too."

The rest of the time she was here was completely silent. I knew she had nothing left to say and I didn't have anything else to say to her. But she had to stay. I was now on 24 hours supervision. You never know when I might lose control again, I guess. But I wouldn't now. Because as soon as we stopped talking, I was left alone with my thoughts. Or, rather, thought. Singular. I only had one thought at this moment.

I'm going to be a father.

* * *

**So yeah. Shawn's Point of View. Didn't think I'd do one of these. But here it is.**

**Please review!**


	35. Progress

**Hello Lovelys! So sorry it took me ages to update. As soon as I updated my last one, I fell really ill and was pretty much confined to my bed. While this would be the perfect opportunity for most people to write, when I tried to write, all that came out was crap. This is the first time I actually looked over a chapter and deleted everything and started over with a different point of view and a different sequence of events.**

**Anyways, these authors' notes are long enough, so enjoy the last chapter!**

**You read correctly. Last. Chapter. (excluding epilogue).**

**Please review! Good, bad or just grammar/spelling corrections!**

* * *

Present Day

Juliet O'Hara Point of View

* * *

It's the seventh day since Shawn has been out of the hospital. It's the tenth day since I've returned to work. I thought maybe holing a gun would clear my mind. I thought starting a case would help me think. I thought an investigation was exactly what I needed for a distraction. But, turns out, I start desk duty. That means no investigating, no criminals and no guns. So much for my distraction.

I had argued my point several hundred times. I've only been pregnant for no more than a month. I should be able to go into the field if I need to. I shouldn't be confined to a desk. They simply shut me down. Then I tried a different approach. I tried to work the chief's sympathy. I told her how I needed to get back into the field, how I _needed_ a distraction. She simply smiled at me, handed me a lot of paper work and told me that _that_ was my distraction.

Then, I tried my last approach. I walked to Carlton and ranted. I figured he would say something about him needing a partner. Maybe he would help me argue my case to the chief. After all, Carlton didn't really strike me as the type to worry that much about a woman who was only a _month_ pregnant. Especially since I had some tie with Shawn. But instead, he surprised me big time. When I had started to rant about the injustice and complained about how I was itching to get out there, he just stared at me with almost harsh eyes.

"Don't you dare put you or that baby in harm's way" he had said to me sternly. I was just too shocked at his response to even begin to react at first. "You and that baby are the only thing keeping Spencer here. You and that baby are the only reason he's actually fighting."

"That's not true…" I had whispered and he just raised his eyebrows at me.

"Don't you see his face light up whenever the baby is mentioned?" in all honesty, I had. And it was at that point that I knew that they were all right. I was wrong. I had to stay out of the field. I had to stay out of harm's way. At least until I had the baby. Then I could go frolicking around with a gun. But until then, it's desk duty for me.

And so that brings us to now. Here I am, day six of a job that is equivalent to rubbing sand paper over my face. And to top it all off, I had finished all my work _yesterday_. I work regular hours, except I'm behind a desk. I had gotten so used to doing paperwork in whatever free time I had left that I had learnt to do it all very quickly. And now I had nothing to do. I looked at the clock to see how much time I had killed. It's 8:11. Great. 11 minutes down, 8 hours 49 minutes to go.

This is so _dull_!

"Detective O'Hara" I heard a voice call out. I quickly looked up to see that exactly 3 minutes had passed since I last checked the clock. Great. Then I turned towards the voice that had called my name to see the chief staring at me. I quickly got to my feet, moving around all the doodles that I had drawn in my depressing amount of free time.

"Uh… yes chief?" I asked, still shoving all the drawings in my drawer.

"There's no point in staying here if you're just going to lay your head on the desk" she reasoned with me.

"But chief, I already-"

"Yes, I know you already finished all your work. So what are you still doing here?"

"I can go?" I asked, not entirely sure if (a) it was a trick or not and (b) if I actually wanted to go. I mean, what would I do? Sit at home, waiting around for pretty much nothing.

"Of course you can. No point in just lying around" the chief said, and she left the room. Great. Now I have to go home and actually find something to do.

"You know" Carlton said from behind his desk. "You _could_ visit Spencer…" he offered.

"Nah. He's never up at this time. And even if he were, I doubt he'd be in a good mood."

"Then go and surprise him" Carlton said. Didn't really expect that to come from him.

"Excuse me?" he then heavily sighed before looking at me again.

"I stopped by the Spencer household a two days ago in the morning" he admitted. "They seemed to be fighting and apparently, they have this particular argument every morning. I just figured having someone there would… I don't know, lighten the mood a bit." There are so many things wrong with this situation.

Why was Carlton checking up on Shawn? Why are Shawn and his father fighting? How could they be fighting, so soon after he got released from the hospital?

"Wh-"

"Just go and figure out for yourself" Carlton interrupted me before I even had a chance to choose which of the many questions I would ask first. Before I could even consider my options, Carlton started to push me out of the front doors and practically forced me into my car.

I guess I'm visiting Shawn then.

* * *

I arrived at the Spencer household at 8:42. Henry opened up the door and looked at me in surprise before stepping aside and letting me in. This house had become a meeting point for all of us, so it wasn't a very big surprise when one of us would turn up at the door. It became routine, now. He'd open the door and depending on the time of the day he might say something or act surprised. Then, he'd move out of the way and let us walk into his house and take a seat in front of the TV. Unless, of course, Shawn was sitting at the dining table or some other place. In which case, we would sit next to him.

But today, at this moment, Shawn was nowhere to be seen.

"He's still sleeping" Henry explained to me. I figured he might be.

"I thought so" I said. "I was just told that I could leave the station. So I came here. I hope you don't mind."

"No, no. Not at all. Can I get you anything? Coffee, food…"

"Just coffee" I said. He nodded and then turned into the kitchen. He came back quickly with two mugs of coffee and he handed one to me. "So how is he?" I asked.

"He hasn't changed much since last night, Juliet" he said with a small grin on his face.

"Right" I said with a nod. "How are you, then, Mr Spencer?" I asked.

"Alright. Mentally preparing myself… "

"For your arguments?" I couldn't help but blurt it out. I regretted it as soon as I said it. Henry looked at me oddly. "Carlton told me about them" I said quietly.

"The way I see it, if he has the energy to argue, he's getting better." That's actually fair enough. "They're not serious arguments anyways. Nothing to worry about." I just nodded and finally took my first sip of coffee. "So how are you, Juliet? And how's the baby?"

"Baby's good" I said and I couldn't help but have my hand fly to my stomach. I wasn't even showing yet, but as soon as someone brought up the baby, I couldn't help myself. "I, on the other hand, am just about ready to die of boredom. You have no idea what it's like to be stuck behind the desk for over a week, knowing very well that it's going to be like this for at least nine months." Henry just laughed.

"I do _not_ envy you." I just let out an overly dramatic sigh in agreement.

After another ten minutes of conversation, Henry took my now empty mug and put it in the sink. He guided me to the living room and handed me the remote. So, I turned on the news channel and just got comfortable, waiting for Shawn to finally wake up.

I'm not sure when I drifted to sleep. All I know is that at around 10, I was woken up by a hissed argument. I turned down the TV to pay extra close attention.

"Shawn, you know how it works" Henry said calmly.

"Yeah, yeah. I know _how_ it works" Shawn hissed. "I don't know _why_ but hey, I know how."

"All you have to do is eat something."

"I'm not hungry, dad! Why is this such a big deal?!"

"Shawn, you never missed a chance at breakfast _before_ all this happened. So why are you skipping it now?"

"Why does it matter?" Shawn demanded, starting to raise his voice. "I'm in _pain!_ Is that not enough?!"

"Shawn-"

"No, honestly, what do you think is going to happen if I skip a meal? It's one meal! I'm not starving myself, if that's what you're worried about. I'm just not hungry!"

"We have this same argument every day" Henry said, still in the same calm voice. "I'm not giving you any painkillers until you eat something." There was a moment of silence before I heard a very loud sigh.

"They're my pills, I should be able to take them when I want" I heard Shawn mumble. Apparently so did Henry.

"Shawn, you know very well why you can't."

"Yeah, yeah!" and then the footsteps were becoming louder as he was starting to walk towards the living room. "I'm on suicide watch, I know, I know!" Shawn yelled back at his father. "Never know when I might try to off myself!"

Then Shawn appeared just in front of me, clutching and putting all his support on his cane. I was still curled into a ball in the sofa, trying very hard not to be seen. Of course, my attempts were in vain and Shawn looked at me immediately. I just shot him a smile. "Jules?"

"Hey, Shawn" I said, still with a smile on my face. His eyes shot back to the kitchen and I couldn't help but notice the slightly embarrassed look on his face. I ignored it and patted the seat next to me. Shawn then limped towards me and sat down next to me. Then I leaned in towards him, careful to avoid any part of his body that might hurt, and kissed him lightly on the lips.

"How are you?" Shawn asked when we broke apart from the kiss.

"I'm fine. I was bored at work, so I thought I'd pay you a little visit."

"Bored at work? So you just ditched? Oooh. What will Lassie think?" I couldn't help but smile. It was so nice to hear him joke again. It had been such a long time. To think, we all went a whole month without hearing a single joke come out of this beautiful man's mouth. Sure, at times it was inappropriate and not at all suitable for the conversation, but I'd rather all those silly jokes than none at all.

Instead of responding, I leaned in towards him again and kissed him softly on the lips. Then, he started to kiss back. He leaned closer towards me until I was the one lying on my back and he was over me.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, a little voice kept yelling at me. I'm at Henry Spencer's house. This is highly inappropriate. But then, another voice screamed back in response. When was the last time I had seen Shawn like this? Too long ago. So I let him continue. I wrapped my arms around him, forgetting just for a moment that he was still injured. He seemed to forget for a moment too. He started to get really into it and then suddenly pulled away and groaned in pain.

I sat up quickly, ready to help in any way I could, though I'm not quite sure what that would include. So I just basically sat there and watched him. One hand was on his ribs and the other was on his immobilised knee.

"Shawn?" I called out. He didn't respond so I scooted closer to him placing a hand on his back.

"I'm fine" he said in response to my touch.

"No, you're not" I said sternly. I stood up and offered my hand to him. "Let's get you something to eat so you can do something about the pain." Shawn stared at my hand for what seemed like forever before finally taking it with his left hand and reaching for his cane with his right. Hand in hand, we made our way back to the kitchen. Henry stood by the counter, staring at us almost amused. Shawn just avoided eye contact.

"So, what can I get you, Shawn?" Henry asked as I was guiding Shawn to the dining table.

"I don't care" Shawn grumbled.

"I'll cook up some eggs" Henry said. "Juliet, you want anything?" Actually, eggs sounds really very tempting right now. Plus, it might make Shawn less self-conscious if he isn't eating alone.

"Well, if you're already cooking some eggs…" I hinted. He smiled at me and nodded.

"Sure thing. Two portions of eggs." Shawn rolled his eyes at his father. Henry bent down towards me.

"Thanks" he whispered, just low enough so Shawn wouldn't hear.

"No problem."

* * *

At almost exactly 2:30, there was a knock on the door. Henry opened it to reveal Doctor Gregory Lewis, Shawn's therapist.

Shawn still went to therapy every day. Both Doctor Lewis and Shawn say that he's making a lot of progress and that he's improving. It's for this reason I don't quite understand why their therapy session was a daily thing. But Shawn insisted on it. And while I'm thankful Shawn is opening up to someone and is getting the help he needed, I wasn't quite sure what Doctor Lewis was doing at the Spencer Household. I was under the impression that Shawn would go to some clinic for his sessions. Instead, Doctor Lewis walked in after greeting Henry.

"Doctor House!" Shawn called out with a small grin on his face.

"I still don't understand why you call me that" Doctor Lewis said.

"Come on. We've been over this. You're a doctor, he's a doctor. Your first name is Gregory, his first name is Gregory. It's simple logic, really."

"Of course it is" Henry said.

"So, Shawn, are we walking or sitting today?"

"Definitely walking" Shawn said quickly. He quickly moved to me and lightly kissed me on the lips before walking out the front door. Doctor Lewis waved a goodbye as well before following Shawn out. I turned to Henry, completely confused. He took one look at my expression and laughed before finally explaining.

"Shawn never like sitting still" he said. "In the hospital, whenever they had a therapy session, they would just be walking around the corridors, talking and walking. And even now that he's out of the hospital, he can't stand sitting still. So, Doctor Lewis very kindly offered this alternative. Providing, of course, that Shawn actually puts in an effort instead of just wandering around trying to worm out of his therapy sessions." I just nodded. That _was_ actually really nice of him to offer.

"Any news on how he's actually doing with the therapy?" I asked. Shawn never talked about it with me. I don't know if he'd talk about with Henry or if he'd even tell me anything about it if he knew. But I had to try. So I studied his face carefully for any significant reactions. But Henry, just like Shawn, was very good at hiding what he really felt.

"Just that he's getting better" Henry said. "He reduced the anti-depressants prescription already." This caught my attention.

"That's great!" I said happily.

"Yeah, it is" Henry said with a genuine smile on his face. "Thanks, again, by the way." I understood what he was saying thanks for at breakfast, but ever since then, he kept saying thanks to me.

"Why?" I asked. I honestly didn't know anymore.

"I don't think it's any secret that you're one of the main reasons Shawn's recovering so quickly." Well, it was certainly a secret from me.

"What makes you say that?" I asked.

"Oh, come one. You're a detective, Juliet." Apparently, not a very good one if I missed something this big. "Don't you notice that every time you walk in he's just slightly happier?"

"It's the same with Gus" I said. "And I'm sure with you too. You're his father, after all."

"It's different with you. I mean, not only do you make him so happy all the time, but you also manage to get him to do things no one else can. Do you know how long it usually takes me to get him to eat a single _bite_ of toast in the morning? A lot longer than it took you to get him to eat a whole meal."

"I think he was just in pain" I defended, remembering that look on his face when he clutched his sore body. Henry just shook his head.

"I just wanted to say thank you" Henry said again. "For everything you've done for him. For making him happy. "

"You're welcome" I said uncertainly.

He just smiled at me before going back into the talk of the baby.

* * *

Today marks one month and four days since Shawn was released from the hospital.

Every day since that first day I showed up at the Spencer Household worked out pretty much the same way. It got to the point that Henry actually gave me a spare key to his house, assuring me that if I ever wanted to visit, I shouldn't even have to knock. It was simply routine now. I would arrive at the house at around 9 in the morning. I would talk to Henry about Shawn, the baby and pretty soon we even talked about work. At one point, we got into the conversation of fishing and I had explained how when I was younger my dad took me out once or twice. Then, at around 10, I would go up to Shawn's room to wake him up.

And by wake him up, I mean I'd climb into his bed and curl up next to him, waiting patiently for Shawn to wake up on his own.

Generally, he'd wake up in a panic. His eyes would shoot open and he would quickly sit up, checking all his injuries. Then, he'd quickly grasp his phone and check his last messages. Only after this routine would he finally notice me. Then, he'd smile, lie down next to me and face me. We usually stared into each other's eyes for a while before he finally leaned in and gently kissed me. We'd end up walking down to the kitchen at around 11 in the end. Surely Henry must know it doesn't take an hour to wake Shawn up, but I'd rather pretend he didn't.

We'd then end up eating a rather late breakfast together and only after Shawn finished everything on his plate would Henry give him two rather large pain killers. Then, we'd all sit in front of the TV and talk. Or we'd go out to the patio and talk. Or we'd just stay in the kitchen and talk.

The worst moments would always be if Shawn ever looked into a mirror and saw that all too familiar scar on his own face. We could very clearly see the tension and hatred build up in Shawn, but there was nothing we could do. So we acted like nothing was happening. Though, if I caught Shawn still upset about it after he had already seen his reflection, I would walk over and kiss his scar. This generally helped to bring him back down to Earth and start to relax a bit more.

At 2:30, almost to the dot every single day, Doctor Lewis would appear. They'd leave the house and go walking and talking. I would then say my goodbye to Henry and head to the station to actually do some work. The chief and Carlton seemed to be perfectly fine with my new schedule, so why change it? I assured them that if they ever need me for anything, all they have to do is call. I haven't received any yet.

Gus would go to the Spencer's after his route and after Shawn's therapy. I'm not sure what they'd do, but I'm assuming it has a lot to do with watching obscure movies and arguing about things that no one really cares about. Then, at around nine, who ever wanted to would visit Shawn. Sometimes Carlton would come. Sometimes the chief would come. There were sometimes when Woody and Buzz would visit as well. In fact, I'm pretty sure that every member of the SBPD has visited Shawn at least once.

But today was different from my normal routine. Sure, it started off the same way as always. I walked up the driveway of the very familiar house. Even though Henry insisted on just coming in, I would still knock. He opened the door with an unusually large grin on his face.

"Juliet" he said happily. "Great, you're here." And he practically pulled me in and dragged me to the kitchen. Once we were finally at a stand still, he handed me a letter. I held it started to read it out loud.

"Dear Mr Spencer, it has come to my attention that Shawn is needing my help less and less…" I stared at those words and read them over again in my head before over and over before I continued to the read the rest of it silently. Then I looked up at Henry in the same smile.

"He's getting better" Henry said with a smile.

"An amazing improvement" I said, quoting the letter.

"Yep!"

"One session a week!"

"That's all he needs!" I couldn't help but laugh. I didn't know what else to do, I'm just so happy! He's getting better. He's getting so much better!

"Is he going to see Doctor Lewis today?" I asked at last.

"No, but for a different reason. We need to go to the hospital today." And then quickly, my smile was gone, my mood fading away with it.

"Why? What happened? Is Shawn in pain?" And Henry just laughed at my reaction.

"No. They just want to check up on Shawn, see if he's ready to take off his knee brace yet." And now I have to sit down. There's just so much happening and I'm just feeling so many different emotions. And now I'm in tears. Great. Personally, I blame the pregnancy.

At 10am, I made my way up to Shawn's room again. It was just like any other day, really. Except it wasn't. Not now that I know just how well he's actually doing. I climbed into his bed and curled up against him. I place my head on his chest and hoped to God I wouldn't wake him. I closed my eyes and focused on Shawn's breathing, on his heart beating. I found it strangely comforting and found that I was starting to doze off.

Then, I felt an arm go around my shoulders and squeeze me tight. I forced my tired eyes open and looked up to see Shawn looking at me smiling. I stretched my neck up towards him to kiss him lightly. His smile only got bigger.

"Morning, Shawn" I said, eyes still begging to close and fall asleep.

"Morning, Jules" Shawn replied.

And then it hit me. Shawn was awake. He calmly woke up all on his own. No panic, no checking phones and he noticed me immediately. There wasn't even a slight shake in his voice. He was just perfectly fine.

"No more nightmares?" I asked. I could feel him slightly tense up and take in a deep breath. Shawn had told me about his nightmares. He told me how he dreamed about Jackson being killed by Stuart, or Hayworth being shot between the eyes. He told me he sometimes dreamed about both instances when he was held captive by Stuart. He told me he had several nightmares where Stuart wasn't dead and he went to find Shawn.

Of course, he would always tell me this moments after waking up from a particularly bad dream. And even after the dreams where he wakes up shaking, I have to press for some of the details, assuring that it could only help if he talked about it. So he did. He wouldn't just bring it up in casual conversation.

"No, actually" he admitted at last. "None at all."

"So did you have a nice dream then?"

"Sort of. It's not exactly a happy dream, actually it's quite a sad dream, but it's definitely not a nightmare. Especially not one that I'm used to."

"Tell me." There was a slight hesitation.

"I dreamed about Jacky…" I just nodded. He often did dream about his friend lately. And I don't really blame him. Not in the slightest. "He was meeting you" Shawn continued. "And the baby, and Gus and Lassie and my dad… it was… nice. Really nice."

"So then why was it sad?" I asked. Another hesitation.

"Well… because it can never happen. And I know it." I hadn't really considered that. Shame on me. I looked up to study Shawn's face, only to see him smiling. "You would have loved him."

"I'm sure I would have" I said. Then it was silence. I placed my head back on his chest and we just lay there for a while. Just staring at nothing. Just enjoying each other's presence.

"You know, I could get used to this" Shawn said calmly.

"Get used to what?"

"Waking up to find you in my bed. To find you right next to me."

"Well… why don't you?"

"Sorry?"

"Get used to it. Come live with me." Now we both sat up, realising that this wasn't exactly bedtime-half-asleep-half-awake conversation material.

"Like, move in?"

"Yeah. I mean, we practically lived in the same house before. And even now, I'm here everyday and you said it yourself. You could get used to it. So why not?" then a huge smile spread across his face (thank God) and he nodded.

"I'd love to."

* * *

It's been one month and 29 days since Shawn was released from the hospital. Therapy sessions were at one hour per week. Physiotherapy was two hours per week. Knee brace has been off for a week now. And the last of Shawn's things are finally unpacked and shoved into a closet.

I had told Henry that Shawn and I were moving in while we were waiting for Shawn at the hospital the first time he went to get X-rays taken. He seemed to be on board with the idea, under one condition. Shawn stayed with Henry until his knee and ribs were healed. That day was one week ago. So Shawn and I both jumped at the opportunity to move in with each other. Henry, Gus and Carlton all on board with this plan. In fact, all three of them offered to help move Shawn's things over. Henry and Gus even offered to help Shawn sell his old place. Although, in all honesty, it might stay on the market for a little while.

But now, at this moment, none of it mattered. It was almost midnight and Shawn and I were both on the bed. He was on top of me, kissing me furiously. Over the past week, he had taken full advantage of his recovery. He would go for long walks with me all on the beach. He would sometimes go for a jog, just as his physiotherapist had suggested. But most of all, he took advantage of his recovery in bed. It always wore us out in the end and we would fall asleep almost immediately after.

It was three o'clock in the morning when Shawn's horrified screams woke me up. I quickly sat up to see that Shawn had a very tight grip on the bed sheets and was staring at the door in front of him. quickly remembering that his most common dreams were that Stuart was still alive and had come to finish the job, I place my hand on his, assuring him that it was just a dream. But to my surprise, his wild, disorientated eyes stared at me and then he cried in… relief.

"Jules! Oh my God!" and then he wrapped his arms round me.

"Shawn… what is it? What happened?" I asked, clearly referring to his dream.

"It doesn't matter." He started to hold on to me tighter.

"Shawn" I said, pressing for more details.

"I… it was just a night mare."

"I figured." There was a slight hesitation and he pulled away from our hug to look at me.

"I dreamed that I didn't leave to LA after Stuart hat threatened me" he said. He knew I knew about the letters and about the pictures. He knows I know he was threatened.

"So, what happened?" Shawn shook his head.

"He… he killed my dad… and was torturing you…" Shawn just continued to shake his head, trying desperately to shake away the dream. I put one hand on his cheek and caressed this lovely man.

"Hey, Shawn, look at me. I'm right here, okay. I'm not even slightly hurt. If you want, we can call your father as well. You'll see, he's fine as well." Shawn nodded. "It was just a dream."

Shawn then flopped back down in the bed. I curled up next to him, resting my head on his chest. He wrapped his arm around me and soon enough, he was dozing off again. But I just couldn't sleep.

Maybe I was looking into the dream a bit too much. After all, they are just dreams. But… from what I heard from Henry, Shawn was feeling guilty about everything and also feeling scared. That explained his nightmares back then. Fear of the Hour Killer coming for him, killing him. but most of all, the guilt. The awful guilt he felt about it all. Shawn had told me about the dreams he had where he watched his friends die. Where he watched all of Stuart's victims die. That was the awful, unreasonable guilt he felt.

But now, it was neither of those two. Yes, there was an element of fear. But not for him, for us. And that wasn't even the most important detail of the dream. The part that caught my attention was the reason why we were suffering in his dream. It was because in his dream, he didn't make a decision that he actually had made in real life.

He wasn't feeling regret or guilt in this situation. He was happy that he made the right decisions. He was thankful.

* * *

It's been two months and 19 days since Shawn was released from the hospital. Three months and 18 days since the incident. Just over four months pregnant and I'm finally starting to show it.

Shawn got a letter in the mail and showed it to me with a big smile on his face. I didn't read the whole letter, just one line.

"Shawn Spencer is physically and psychologically fit to return to work at Psych and with the Santa Barbara Police Department."


	36. Epilogue

**Hello Lovelys! It is the last chapter ever in this FanFic! I can't believe it's over! Thank you all **_**so**_** much for reading and putting up with my delays and any mistakes I could have made. You guys are so lovely and amazing! Thanks for reading it and thanks for all the amazing reviews! So sad it's over!**

** Qwertyuiop: Can't reply to your review, but just want to say that you're not ignored, I read your review and took your suggestion in mind but I personally don't like switching point of views within a single chapter, however you asked for Gus a couple chapters ago, and it is Gus you shall receive. **

**I have one last favour to ask of all of you. This FanFic ends, however I have 4 planned Psych FanFics and I have no idea which one to do next. If you look at my profile, I have each of my planned FanFics on there with a small summary on it, so please take some time to look at them and PM me which one you would like me to do next.**

**Side note: The event that happens in this chapter… I got most information from 'Friends' and 'Scrubs' and Yahoo Answers. Some might be inaccurate.**

**Authors notes way to long. Please Review! All types!**

* * *

5 Months Later

Burton Guster Point of View

* * *

Shawn started work again 5 months ago. It's been 8 months and 3 days since Shawn was kidnapped by the Hour Killer and, to be honest, the whole incident was never even brought up. I think everyone would prefer to just burn it from their memories.

Shawn was back to his old ways. He made jokes, 80's references and even messed with Lassiter a whole lot more. He flirted endlessly with Juliet, even though they were already pretty much set for life. He teased his father and cracked jokes at him all the time. He pressured me into cases I didn't want to do pretty much every week. Yeah… Shawn was back.

However, there was one thing Shawn never did get over and I'm afraid he never will get over it. There were times when he saw his reflection that there was only one thing he focused on. The scar from his eye to his chin. The stupid trademark sign of The Hour Killer. When he would focus on that damned scar, he would just freeze up, clench his hands into fists. It usually took someone to call out his name or place a hand on his shoulder to bring him back down to Earth, but once you did, he would crack a joke and get back to work. But he was getting better at it.

When Shawn first returned to work, the chief would only assign him robbery cases or _risk _of murder cases. She was always afraid that if she assigned him a murder case too soon after his little… incident… it would ultimately destroy him. So for a good three months, Psych was off murder cases. I didn't mind all that much. I had grown tired of having a gun constantly pointed at either me or Shawn.

Shawn, however, was growing restless. He kept pushing and pushing until finally, one month and 17 days ago, she gave him a murder case. He solved it in record time. That was when it was decided that Shawn was completely ready to go back to work, _exactly_ as it was before.

Juliet was far too pregnant at that point to go back in the field, so she stayed on desk duty. If the chief had had her way, Juliet wouldn't have even had desk duty. She would have been at home preparing for the baby. But, clearly, the chief did not get her way. Not until two weeks ago. Shawn practically begged her to stay at home and take care of herself, to be safe (of course, if anybody asked, Shawn did not get down on his knees and almost cry. Because that didn't happen).

Many people asked why they weren't married yet. These people included Frank, Maryanne and Lloyd O'Hara as well as Henry and Madeline. They kept insisting that it was only natural for them to get married now. They lived together, they were going to have a baby together… it had to happen. Apparently, even Juliet one day just snapped and asked him about it. Two months ago, she demanded to know why he hadn't popped the question yet. Shawn just smiled at her and said the most sensible thing I had ever heard.

"I love you, Jules. I really do. I know you want to get married and believe me, I do too. I just want it to happen naturally, when the time is right. Not simply because you're pregnant and it seems like the 'right' thing to do. I want us to get married because we are deeply in love and want the whole world to know it, not because you're pregnant." At a speech like that, who could argue? Not Juliet. Not even her parents could. Even Mr. Spencer was slightly astounded at that.

Juliet was never alone anymore. She was due in two weeks, who _would_ leave her alone? We were all afraid that soon the baby would just _pop_ right out! Today, it was my turn to keep her company. She sat on her couch, hand on her giant stomach as the two of us watched the news. She was complaining of cramps earlier on in the day so she asked for a smoothie. Shawn was out getting smoothies for us. I think he really just wanted to be left alone. He had days like this sometimes. When his thoughts would just catch up with him and he'd need a moment alone to sort them out. So it was just me and Juliet, on the couch… alone.

"Come on!" I begged again.

"Gus, I told you already. I don't know-"

"That's such a lie! What kind of pregnant woman doesn't want to know the gender of their child?!"

"_This_ pregnant woman!" Juliet practically screamed, pointing at herself.

"Alright, what about Shawn? The curiosity must be eating him alive."

"He was the one to suggest it, actually. He doesn't want to know what gender the baby is. And I figured that if I knew I wouldn't be able to help myself and eventually I would let it slip. So no one but the doctor knows the gender. Looks like you'll just have to wait two weeks. "

"Tsk!" I looked away and focused back on the screen. Juliet just laughed and did the same.

The front door opened then and Shawn walked in carrying three smoothies. He handed me the pineapple one and then looked at Juliet with a hint of… fear… in his eyes.

"They were fresh out of the passion fruit, mango and berries smoothie. So I got a mixed berries smoothie and a separate passion fruit, mango and pineapple smoothie. It was the only other one they-"

"Shawn, it's fine" Juliet said calmly. She picked up the mixed berries smoothie and took her first sip with a reassuring nod. She knew Shawn was having a bad day today. He didn't need to be yelled at too. Shawn smiled and placed the third smoothie on the counter in the kitchen.

"You didn't get one for yourself?" I asked. He just shook his head.

"Didn't really feel like having one…" Juliet and I exchanged an odd look. Not many people understood just how serious that was for Shawn.

"Are you okay, sweetie?" Juliet asked. Shawn hesitated for a moment.

"Yeah… yeah I'm fine…"

"Shawn…" I pushed a bit. So Shawn flopped down on the couch next to Juliet and started talking.

"I don't know. I just… I don't feel that great today."

"You want to call Doctor Lewis?" Juliet suggested. Shawn hadn't had a therapy session in over three months. He claimed he didn't need it. But sometimes, when he got really down, he'd just give him a call and they'd talk it out.

"Nono. It's not _that_ bad. I'm just… I miss him…" then Shawn jumped to his feet, finally understanding why he was feeling down. "I think I'm going to visit Jacky and Nathan." Of course, we all knew what he meant.

"We can go with you, if you want" Juliet offered. I just nodded in agreement.

"No, it's fine" Shawn said and he started to head for the door. Then he turned back to face his very pregnant girlfriend. "Wait, are you going to be okay here?"

"Shawn, I'm not due for another two weeks. And besides, I'm not exactly alone. Just go. It's fine." Shawn nodded and reached for his motorcycle keys. "No, Shawn!" Juliet protested. Shawn looked up confused. "Don't take the damn bike. Take the car."

"You're beginning to sound like my dad" Shawn muttered but grabbed their car keys. Yeah. I know. It got weird. They _shared_ a car now. "I'll be back soon!" Shawn called out as he left the house.

"When was the last time he visited them?" I asked.

"I think it's been more than a month. No wonder he misses them."

"He's been pretty busy. What with the cases and the baby coming." Juliet nodded in agreement and then it was back to watching the plain old boring news. We watched in silence for about twenty minutes before I decided to ask about the baby again. "So… for preparing for the baby, did you decorate the room pink or blue?"

"Gus-"

"Well, you must have decorated. You simply must have. I mean, it's you. No way you would leave it to last minute preparations. So is it pink or blue?"

"Neither. It's green."

"Green?"

"Like a field. Not like your neon 'Psych' sign."

"Okay, baby names. Are you thinking Jane or John?"

"Are you seriously using John Doe and Jane Doe as a way to classify whether or not my baby is a boy or a girl?"

"Just trying to speak your language."

"It's not a language, Gus. And in any case, I. Don't. Kno-" Juliet cut herself off by placing a hand on her stomach and taking in a deep breath, wincing in pain. She clenched her free hand into a fist.

"Juliet?" She continued to wince in pain, clearly holding back a shout or something for almost a minute before, finally, she returned to normal.

"I'm fine."

"Juliet, are you… you know…"

"No. I'm not due for another two weeks. And in any case, Shawn isn't here. I've already decided this baby isn't coming out until ShaAA-!" she clutched her stomach again. She then looked down. "Gus…" I don't like the tone of her voice.

"…Yeah?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

"I think my water just broke…"

"Nu-uh. This isn't happening-"

"GUUUUS!" she screamed out, hand on stomach again.

"What the hell?! Contractions shouldn't be this close together!"

"GET ME TO THE DAMN HOSPITAL, GUS!" Juliet yelled.

"Right!" I helped her to her feet and then as quickly as she would allow, I brought her to my car and strapped her in. I got into the driver's seat with a screaming Juliet just beside me. I started to reverse out of the drive way and floored it to arrive at the hospital.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" she asked me.

"Taking you to the hospital!" I responded.

"You didn't call Shawn! He's still at the cemetery! I'm not having this baby unless Shawn is by my side!"

"Juliet, I'm driving! I'll call him when we get there-"

"NO! I am having contractions and like you said, they are very close together which can only mean one thing! If you call Shawn at the hospital he might not get there in time. So call him now!"

"Juliet, calm down. Take deep breaths. Think of the baby-"

"I _am_ thinking of the baby! I'm thinking of giving birth to this baby in your damn blueberry without my boyfriend here to hold my hand, and let me tell you something Gus, that is NOT on my to-do list!"

"Juliet-"

"I SAID CALL HIM NOW!" she shrieked in a high pitched almost inaudible sound. I had no choice at that point. So, I pulled out my phone and pushed the speed dial to Shawn's phone and put it on hands free. Shawn picked up after two rings.

'Hey man, what's up-'

"Code pineapple, I repeat, CODE PINEAPPLE!" I yelled into the phone.

'I'll meet you there!' and Shawn hung up.

We arrived at the hospital in just under seven minutes. I rushed Juliet to the receptionist. They took one look at her and didn't even need to ask what was wrong. They just got a wheelchair out, told her to sit down and they pushed her away. I turned to the receptionist.

"I need to be there with her. Do me a favour, would you? call these two numbers, and just say Code Pineapple" I said, handing her a slip of paper with Mr. Spencer and Lassiter's number on it.

"Or I could just say Juliet O'Hara is in labour" the receptionist said, not amused.

"Well, yeah, you could…" I muttered before running after Juliet. Juliet was now in a hospital night gown and was lying in one of the beds, legs spread apart with a doctor inspecting. Talk about invasion of privacy. She was starting to break a sweat, her contractions getting more and more violent.

"Yeah, I think you're ready to be a mommy" the Doctor said to Juliet with a smile.

"What?!"

"You're fully dilated now. That didn't take long at all. We should get you into a private room now. That baby is really eager to get out."

"Yeah, no kidding. He's two weeks early!"

"Come on, time to give birth" the doctor said and nurses were already starting to put Juliet back in her wheelchair. But she started struggling.

"What the hell are you talking about? What about my pain killers?! I'm not _nearly_ as drugged as I'd hoped to be in this situation!"

"Unfortunately there is no time. If we _did_ give you any drugs, they wouldn't take any effect until after the birth."

"Then you know what, this can wait!" Juliet yelled. "The baby waited 9 months, it can wait another half an hour for the painkillers to kick in _and_ for my boyfriend to get here- AA!" at this point, the doctors successfully put Juliet in the wheel chair and was pushing her towards a private room as she screamed out in pain with another contraction. Where the hell was Shawn?!

"Keep breathing, Juliet! You're doing fine!"

"Shut up, Gus!" Juliet yelled in response. They finally brought her to her own private room and they were preparing for the birth of a new baby. At this point, Mr. Spencer and Lassiter had arrived. How the hell did they get here before Shawn!?

"O'Hara!" Lassiter called out.

"Lassie! How did you get here so fast?" I asked.

"Sirens" he said as if it were obvious. I looked at Mr. Spencer and he just shrugged. He was probably with Lassiter when this happened and just went along with it.

"Where's Shawn?!" Juliet demanded. The two new arrivals just stared at her.

"It's crowded in here, out, out!" the doctor ordered, pushing Lassiter and Mr. Spencer out.

"Give us updates!" Mr. Spencer yelled as he was forced to leave the room. I looked back at Juliet who was sweating and screaming, going through another contraction.

"You have to start pushing!" the doctor ordered.

"Not until Shawn gets here!" Juliet yelled.

"Juliet, listen to me" I said, bending over just a bit to be at eye level with her. "You can't just wait for Shawn to get here. It's not healthy for you or the baby. You have to start-"

"Easy for you to say, you're not pushing a three and a half kilo BABY out of you without any painkillers!" she shrieked.

"Shawn will be here soon! I promise!" I assured her. She stared at me with wild eyes. "I promise." I said again with more confidence. Then finally she agreed. I held out my hand and she grabbed it very tightly. And I mean… _very_ tightly. And so she started to push, screaming and shrieking as she did until she threw her head back, panting and sobbing in pain, practically giving up.

"Come on, keep pushing" the Doctor said. Tears were streaming down her face.

"Shawn" she mouthed to me.

"He'll be here-"

"I'M HERE!" Shawn burst through the doors, running to his girlfriend's side. Her desperate state quickly turned furious at the sight of Shawn.

"You're late!" she shrieked at him.

"Sorry! There was traffic and I didn't have my bike, I couldn't just skip past it!" he offered Juliet his hand and she quickly moved from mine to his and squeezed it even tighter. It actually caused Shawn to gasp and clench his other hand into a fist. I stepped out of the way and let Shawn help in the way he knew how to.

"Come on, Jules-"

"SHUT UP, SHAWN!"

"You're not as drugged up as you hoped to be, are you?"

"I'M NOT DRUGGED UP AT ALL!"

"Miss O'Hara, give us one big push" the doctor urged.

"Come on, Jules."

"I hate you so much right now!" Juliet screamed at Shawn.

"I know, come on, one push" Shawn said.

"You left me alone!" Juliet screamed.

"Yes, I know, come on, Jules-"

"You're such a bastard!"

"Come on, Jules. Big push." And so, with an ear-splitting scream, Juliet started to push again.

At this point, I left the room. Mr. Spencer and Lassiter were in the chairs just outside the room. I just quickly joined them and we all sat in silence. Well, not really silence. You could hear Juliet screaming almost perfectly. Constantly yelling at Shawn. And throughout the whole time, Shawn just said calm words. No doubt always saying "yes, I know, come on, one more push". This lasted for at least 20 minutes. Then, we all heard a very loud shriek coming from the inside followed by sobbing. The three of us just exchanged an odd look. I mean, what did anyone expect from us? We're all dudes. We don't know what's going on.

There was a moment pause in the room before Juliet's screaming picked up again. And then very soon, her shrieking wasn't the only noise coming from that room. A second cry was heard and the three of us practically jumped to our feet at the sound of the new born baby. We all wanted to burst through those doors, meet the newest addition to the Spencer family. But we couldn't. we had to leave them with their new child for a little while. So, reluctantly, we all sat back down and twiddled our thumbs.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Shawn opened the doors to the hospital room with a smile on his face.

"You want to meet her?" he asked happily.

"Her?" Lassiter clarified.

"It's a girl?" I asked. Shawn smiled and nodded. We all followed him into the room to see Juliet holding and smiling at a little baby covered in a pink blanket. Juliet looked like hell. Her hair was a mess, she looked exhausted and so, so weak… and yet she still found the energy to hold her baby and stare at her lovingly as any mother would.

"That's…" Mr. Spencer was, for once, lost for words. Shawn looked up at his dad with a smile on his face.

"Yeah…" Shawn said, knowing what he was going for.

"That's my granddaughter…" Shawn smiled and nodded again. Juliet looked up at us. Then she made direct eye contact with Mr. Spencer. She looked as if she was too weak to even form words. Mr. Spencer approached her and she willingly handed over the baby to him. Mr. Spencer held the baby with so much care and he looked at her in a way that I hadn't seen him look at anything before. Not in a very long time, at least. "She's beautiful" he said. Juliet and Shawn nodded in unison.

Shawn walked up to Juliet and kissed her on the forehead. She looked so tired, as if she was about to fall asleep. Shawn's hand looked very red. Juliet must have been holding it very tightly for that to have happened. But yet they were kissing. Clearly, whatever thing Juliet might have said, Shawn didn't take personally. Which is good. I don't think she meant any of it.

Mr. Spencer handed the baby to me. I've never held a baby before and to be honest, I wasn't expecting her to be so light. The little girl was truly an amazing site. She was probably the perfect mix between the two. Shawn's hazel eyes, Juliet's stunning smile. I realised now that the baby isn't crying. She's just looking up at me with curious eyes. She definitely got that from Shawn. I kind of hope that she is a bit of a nightmare. Let Shawn have a taste of his own medicine. But, damn, this little baby is so cute, I don't think Shawn would be _capable_ of punishing her if she ever did something wrong. Hopefully, she got Juliet's views on morals and ethics. Then she really would be a perfect child.

Lassiter was next. He held the baby a little awkwardly, which made Juliet, Shawn and Mr. Spencer jump and almost snatch the little baby. Lassiter didn't know what to do, so he gently passed the baby back over to Shawn. To my surprise, Shawn actually knew how to handle the baby. Very well, actually. Maybe he actually did pay attention in all those baby preparation classes.

We all crowded around Shawn. This baby wasn't even a full day old and she already had all of us under her control.

"She really is beautiful" Mr. Spencer said. Juliet smiled almost with pride and she looked over her daughter.

"She got a name yet?" Lassiter asked.

"Well… maybe…" Shawn said hesitantly.

"Yes, she does" Juliet said, finally finding strength to speak again.

"You don't have to, Jules" Shawn said.

"I want to. Plus it suits her." Shawn smiled at his girlfriend and then at his new daughter.

"Well, what is it?" Mr. Spencer asked.

"Jackie Maryanne Spencer" Shawn said with a smile.

The room went silent. Even now, so long after he died, we all know what that name means to Shawn. It meant a lot to both of them, I'm assuming. Both names must have meant a lot for them to name their daughter after them.

"That's a really nice name" Mr. Spencer said with a smile. Shawn nodded. He never could stop smiling at his daughter. And who could blame him?

"It's a wonderful name" Juliet said with a smile. Shawn passed the baby over to Juliet who held her lovingly. Juliet stared down at her baby, eyes just starting to fill with tears of happiness. She brushed them away quickly and then held her baby tightly.

"_She_ will be wonderful" Shawn clarified. Juliet smiled at him.

"That's a given" Lassiter said. "She has the two best parents in the whole wide world."

**The End**


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